


Nearest Thing To Heaven

by wandalust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affectionate Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castration, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Contracts, Diapers, Doctor/Patient, Dom/sub, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, Enemas, Feminization, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, Homophobic John Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lactation Kink, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Examination, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Mild S&M, Multi, Needles, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Nudity, Older Man/Younger Man, Omega Dean, Omega Virgin Dean, Past Castiel/Michael (Supernatural), Past Dean Winchester/Other(s), Public Nudity, Scent Kink, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Small Penis, Spanking, Sub Dean, Sugar Daddy, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, dean is 18, minor offscreen character death, parental abandonment, present day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandalust/pseuds/wandalust
Summary: Dean Winchester isn't an alpha like his dad or apparently what his brother's destined to be. But that's okay. Nothing wrong with being a beta like almost everybody else. It ain't anythingspecial, but it's normal.A visit to a clinic results in Dean finding out he's special after all, but not in the way he'd hoped.If his ass smells like candy apples now, Dean’s going to throw himself out the window.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 158
Kudos: 766





	1. Chapter 1

“Doc says after that it’ll be like normal, pretty much.” His father scratches his ear and looks away. “After that first heat, kid. Gotta do what you gotta do.”

Dean nods tightly at the finality of that. “Yes sir,” he says, like always, as Sam leans in and gives Dean a goodbye hug. 

He’ll leave. When the doctor’s done with him, _a simple outpatient procedure_ , he’d said, Dean would grab his clothes out of the plastic bag on the chair in the corner and hitch a ride, get the fuck out of here. Wichita has a lot of trucks going through and a bus station, and Dean can maybe go to Bobby’s. He sure as hell isn’t staying at that Omega Centre place where they look after the unwed mothers and whatnot. Back to normal? Fuck, he’s never gonna be normal, but he can fake it ‘til he makes it.

At the click of the door, the doctor with stormy blue eyes puts a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Can you please get back up on the table, and I’ll scrub in and call the nurse and anesthetist?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean mutters. He steps to the table and gets back on his back, and then there’s a gurney like on TV and they move somewhere else. Dean lets a nurse put his legs in the stirrups. Then there’s a mask over his face and he’s breathing and told to count backwards from 100, and something cool between his legs.

_“Poor little thing, they just left him here, didn’t even wait until he was in recovery.”_

He’s out before he gets to 91.

Dean’s not going anywhere. There’s a thick wad of gauze in his crotch and a tube in his dick and something inside his ass, it feels like. He can flex his feet but his legs feel heavy. His throat’s dry and the room’s sort of dark. He manages a cough, and a few seconds later the door cracks open. 

“Hey, how’s our patient?”

“Okay,” Dean croaks out, though he’s been better. “Thirsty.”

“I can fix that one, easy.” The tall dude in scrubs pours ice water from a pitcher into a styrofoam cup and puts a straw in. His voice is soft and sounds kind. Dean sips gratefully.

“Hungry, too.”

“Now, that’s a good sign, but you’re restricted to liquids tonight, maybe something light tomorrow.” 

Dean frowns, and the nurse, his name tag reads Benny, pats his forearm. “Hmm. I’ll see if we can’t get you some jello or somethin’, cher.” 

“Thought I could go…” home isn’t an option. The ratty furnished apartment on the north end of town where Dean and Sam shared a room with bunk beds is empty now. 

“Omega Centre’s full up at the moment,” Benny says. “Should be a patient discharged tomorrow and we’ll slide ya in, but don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t need to go there,” Dean tries to sit up, and groans. “I could just go-”

“You just had surgery.” Benny folds his arms. 

“Outpatient, the doctor said. That means-”

“Your care’s signed over to Dr. Novak, and what he says, goes.” Dean gives him a dirty look. The guy’s obviously an alpha. Benny just shakes his head and pats his arm again. “Hey there. He’s a good doctor, knows his patients’ limits. Speakin’ of which, any pain between your legs?”

Now Dean thinks about it, there’s a dull ache there, where his balls used to be. For the first time since he found out that he was an unpresented omega, that his testicles weren’t supposed to have dropped in the first place since he’s just shooting blanks anyway, that his cock isn’t actually “small for a beta” but big for an omega, he chokes up.

He reaches a tentative hand down, past his cock, and everything’s...still there. 

“What the hell,” Dean mutters, shocked.

“Ah, sorry, we told you, but you were still kind of out of it in recovery. Dr. Novak said you were too distressed to move forward with the testicular removal even though your dad approved it, so he just cleared the obstruction in your channel for now. You don’t need to be castrated, but you’ll probably want to have it done later. You’ll see.”

He’s stuck in Wichita for a month or so until he has a heat and can go on suppressants and get back to “normal.” Dean turns his head to the side on the pillow and feels tears prick at his eyelids. He’s not sure if he’s angry or relieved or if it’s stupid omega hormones flooding his system, but he can’t help it. This day’s been a fuckin’ rollercoaster. It’s not like he’s gonna get smacked upside the head for crying, not here.

“Don’t you worry, little omega. It’s all gonna be alright,” Benny says softly when Dean’s sobs turn into hiccups, and hands him two Percocets in a little paper cup. He leaves a packet of tissues on the table.

_That Morning_

The day began with an appointment for Sam and Dean for checkups. They were moving on from Wichita, but the last school had wanted medical records and they didn’t have any, except for a thin folder with an old record of their immunizations. Their dad had said they’d get a clean bill of health and designation papers for the next town, the next school, wherever that might be. Dean already has a GED that he got back in El Paso, but he also has a responsibility: Sam. So he’s probably going back to high school in the fall. It’s fine. It’s not like it ain’t easy blowing off six classes a day and smoking behind the bleachers and sometimes successfully hitting on beta cheerleaders, and he can skip when Dad needs another set of eyes on a stakeout. He’d been doing that even before he’d been old enough to blow off school.

Dean puts down the shitty gossip magazine he’d been flicking through when Sam swans out of the exam room.

“Alpha, when I finally present, maybe this year,” Sam had said, plopping into a chair. Dean handed him the old Gameboy he’s fixed like, four times. “Doctor says I’m probably gonna be really tall, too.”

“Sure, squirt,” Dean had snorted. It figured that his parents, an alpha and an omega, would have at least one alpha kid and one beta and that Sammy would turn out special, wasn’t that like the thing with the dominant genes and the Mendel peas in biology class? It wasn’t like he cared; 90-something percent or so were betas anyway, the default. Average. Nothin’ wrong with being average when you’re already the weird new kid several times a school year, though it’s not like anybody would pick on an alpha like Sam either, once he got a little bigger and more...alpha. When his name was called, Dean followed the nurse down the hall for his own exam. Ears and blood pressure and everything else checked out, he’d changed into a paper gown and after Dr. Cain examined his junk with a serious face, he’d had his legs put in the stirrups and been opened up so wide he could feel the air conditioning in his ass and prodded until he felt a sharp pain inside and a whoosh, and his insides had flooded with liquid.

“‘m I bleeding?” Dean had asked, suddenly dizzy and panicking and trying to sit up, but it wasn’t blood, it was slick, the slick he’d never gotten before. The doctor’s gloved fingers in the slippery wet of his _omega channel_ that “would have to be dilated before he heats,” and he’d lay there quietly freaking the fuck out when his father was called in, dripping on the table while they discussed why Dean had never had an “official orientation exam.” Dean knew the answer to that one. Because they went to doctors, like, never. He’d even stitched up a knife wound on his dad’s leg himself, and his father was somehow able to get his hands on antibiotics and painkillers whenever anybody needed them. 

“Thought he was just small down there,” John Winchester had said with a frown. “Sam’s already bigger than he is at 14, but-”

Dr. Novak spoke up. He was the guy Dr. Cain had called for, some kind of late presentation specialist. He slid his gloved fingers over Dean’s balls and under his cock, lifting it. “But his testes are also smaller than most, and though this is not an omega micropenis, just under three inches erect is far below average.” 

“Could have been a grower,” his father had said with a shrug. “Not like I know much about _male_ omegas. Assumed he was a beta.”

“I can tell that this is the case,” replied the doctor, and Dean can hear a note of...something in that. Disapproval, maybe. “We’ll run the other orientation spectrum tests as well. I take it he hasn’t had those, either?”

“No,” his father looked away. “I mean, I’m dominant. His mother’s....she was an omega, but dominant. Just assumed he took after us.”

Dr. Cain shakes his head. “You can’t assume. And the vast majority of male omegas are submissive.”

Dean had confirmed with the younger doctor that he got hard, but he’d never had a wet dream like Sammy does, and Dr. Novak had poked inside his ass and made his dick drip and tested it. Dean was sterile. Sperm-wise, anyway. Had ovaries, though. He’d still be able to be a parent as an omega. Ugh.

He’d been silent, and maybe in shock, as the doctors and his father had discussed his castration like he wasn’t even there. 

“They obviously supplied some androgens, testosterone, before Dean presented, since he’s taller and more muscular than the average omega, and his penis is slightly larger, but since we’ve unblocked his gland,” Novak spread his hands, “he’ll be getting more omega hormones now.”

Dean had finally spoken up. “My dick gonna shrink?”

“No,” Dr. Novak had said, “and you will still have erections, but your primary orgasms will come from stimulation of your channel.” 

“I won’t want that,” Dean had replied coldly, letting the back of his head thunk down on the exam table.

Dean isn’t in much better spirits by the time Dr. Novak makes it to his room the next day. He’d had to sit through a fuckin’ sponge bath from Benny and he’s not in the mood to be poked at. 

“Hello, Dean.”

He’s also stark naked under the sheet and blanket, a reminder that omega subs have all these stupid rules that betas and alphas don’t. So until this is over with he has that to look forward to, and a bunch of bullshit like being spanked even if he didn’t do anything to deserve it, and who knows what else. Sullen, he glares at The View on TV as the doctor reads his chart.

“Dean.”

“What?” he snaps finally, and the doctor looks almost hurt as he sits down next to Dean’s bed.

“Dean,” he says again, softer, and taps gentle fingers on Dean’s wrist before taking his hand. “I asked how you were feeling today.”

“Like shit,” Dean hisses. 

“Could you please be more specific?” Dr. Novak asks with a concerned face, tilting his head like a curious bird, and Dean can’t help it; he huffs out a laugh. 

“It’s just. Everything.” he shakes his head and tears threaten again. Great. He’s not just an omega, but a “highly submissive” omega. He might as well cry, he’s every cliche. He’s seen a shrink here for tests and everything. He’d been really cool. This guy seems cool, too. None of this is their fault.

“It’s quite a lot to take in,” the doctor says quietly. 

Dean nods. “I don’t want to be...this.” He looks up when Dr. Novak rests a hand on his wrist. 

“You’ve always been an omega, Dean, and a sub, but I know it’s a major adjustment finding out later than usual. We just want to make sure you adapt and that you’re healthy. “Dr. Novak squeezes his hand. “Did Charlie speak with you as well?”

“Yeah.” That had made Dean feel worse. The omega nurse or counselor or whatever had come in all sunny and cheerful with a book about presenting with a bunch of post-it notes stuck in it. Omega safety? Dean wasn’t worried about getting assaulted; he’d pointed out to Charlie that he was a big dude and could pass for a beta and would be taking blockers anyway (he didn’t mention the tactical knife tucked into his boots and the trunk full of weapons the Winchesters had) and Charlie had looked doubtful and remarked that Dean would be “so vulnerable” during his heats. So, fuck that. He could fight, and he was useful on hunts; it wasn’t like his own dad would sell him to bond out to some alpha asshole either. Or that he even could. Dean wasn’t some joybag petite omega like her, or like the night shift nurse, Garth. No one would want to mate and breed and dominate somebody like him anyway. He might as well just keep playing beta.

“Pointless,” Dean had said. “I’m gonna go on blockers and won’t even have heats.” He tells Dr. Novak the same thing.

“After your first, that’s entirely your choice, along with castration. It’s mostly cosmetic surgery at this point, though beneficial for other reasons.” 

Right. If he mate-bonded to a traditional alpha and the alpha wanted that, it’s not like he’d get any say, probably. Dean looks away. Well, he just wouldn’t bond with a dominant alpha. He’d find a switch beta or something. That was most people anyway. Problem solved. 

The doctor pulls the sheet covering Dean down to his knees, and he angles his own wrist out of modesty to cover his soft dick, but the doctor moves it so it rests at his side on the bed. “No, Dean. I need to see you.” Dean huffs at that.

“On that note, we need to discuss something.” Dean looks up as the doctor takes a breath. “The Omega Centre is full and your father informed me before he left that you don’t have health insurance.”

That’s probably the real reason why he still has balls. “Yeah, guess not,” Dean says. “I got enough money for a bus ticket, though. I can go stay at my uncle’s. Well, he’s sort of my uncle. I’ll be okay.”

“Is your sort-of uncle a medical professional? Or an omega? Or an alpha with omega children? Is he prepared to dominate you while you adjust?” The doctor asks, skimming knuckles up Dean’s stomach to the center of his chest before delicately smoothing over one nipple, then the other, until they’re both erect. “Highly sensitive here. Very good.” Dean bites his lip.

“Nah, beta. I don’t know if he’s a dom, but I think maybe? He yells a lot. Runs a junkyard.” He hasn’t seen Bobby for over a year, but he’s sure he’d let Dean stay there and help out or something. Pretty sure.

“Dean, you’ll be having your first heat within the month. You’ll need specialized care until it’s over, not to mention periodic exams, and we’ll need to calibrate your blockers and birth control, if you want them, with the proper hormone prescription. And you’re years behind in your submission.” He has both hands on Dean’s chest now, gently circling his hard nipples with warm fingers as he talks, giving them occasional flicks with his thumbs and pinching the peaks. It feels good, but it hurts a little, yet it feels...good. And it’s just a doctor touching him, but it’s hot.

“C-can’t.” Dean clears his throat. His breath’s a little labored and his cock’s fully hard now, the first time since he’d been handled during his first exam. He should probably be embarrassed, but fuck, he’s 18, and this Novak guy looks like he walked fresh off the set of Grey’s or Dr. Sexy. What does he expect? “Can’t afford your clinic, so…” Son of a bitch. He’s gonna end up in one of those state-funded omega training homes, lining up to be tied to a sawhorse to get his ass smacked twice a day and fucked afterward, isn’t he? Not like he wouldn’t bust out at the first opportunity. 

“We do have spots at the Centre for omegas without insurance, but though I’m an attending there, I can’t get you admitted; the spots have gone to two omegas who are expecting and on late pregnancy bed rest.”

Dean raises a shoulder in a shrug.

“...so you’ll be staying at my home until your heat has passed.” Dean looks up, shocked. “I have a spare room, and Charlie does home visits as well. She’ll be able to look in on you and help you adjust before your heat.”

“I can’t -- I-” he protests, but Dr. Novak shakes his head, folding his hands in his lap casually like he hadn’t just been feeling Dean up.

“Your father has signed an official responsibility order and I’m your Alpha of Record for now. But the food will be at least slightly better than hospital food, and my sister has just given me a...Play Station? Or something like that. It’s still in the box, actually, so perhaps you can figure out how to use it. We can get you some library books as well, if the books I have don’t appeal. We’ll work on some submissive training, and I promise you’ll be comfortable and well looked-after. What do you say?”

He looks like he hopes Dean _wants_ to do this, like he has a better option. Like he can say no. He knows what an Alpha of Record means when you’re an omega. 

It means you can’t say no. 

Age of consent is 16. Age of independence is 18. But unless they’re mated off sooner, omegas aren’t officially emancipated until they’re 21. Need an alpha’s permission to do anything, even get a job. Because they’re _vulnerable_ or some shit. This is just great. 

Dean sighs, assessing. He can maybe go to Bobby’s, but it’ll be obvious he’s under 21 and unbonded with no guardian; are they gonna let him buy a ticket and travel alone? Nobody’s going to hire him under those conditions either, and he doesn’t have enough for more than a night or two in a dive motel. He probably reeks of unmated omega now, so it’s definitely not safe for him to run some moneymaking pool games in shitty bars until he’s on blockers, and he’s not getting far without his own car. He guesses he can stick it out and play nice until his heat’s over. If it sucks too much, he can bail once he’s out of the clinic, and it’d be easier to ditch this guy’s place than a training facility; they’re like fuckin’ jails. “Yeah, I guess. Looks like I don’t have a choice.” 

“That’s settled, then.” The doctor rises. “I’ll examine your channel now,” he says, and Dean groans as the bed is raised with a pedal and Dr. Novak puts on his gloves, and he’s made to slip down to the end and spread his bent knees. “Get them wider apart for me. Yes, just like that. Perfect, Dean.” 

The doctor ignores Dean’s fiercely erect cock after an idle glance, but he brushes at a loose wisp of barely-there hair that had begun falling out when the “correct” hormones started to flow. “The pubic hair is nearly gone. Good.” Benny had said he’ll have no hair left on his torso within a few days. It’s not a big deal, he thinks. Some guys manscape. He tried it once and it itched like hell growing back. 

He winces as the taped-on bandage on his undercarriage is taken off, and the doctor presses cool fingers outside his hole. “Your stitches are internal and will dissolve on their own, but you may be a bit sore.” He slides his thumb behind Dean’s balls and presses in, and he flinches. “Still tender, though.”

His fingers dip lower again and Dean feels a tug at his entry. “Dean, I’m removing this.” 

“What is it?” He’d felt something back there, but hadn’t really wanted to investigate. 

“Just an absorbent plug, because of your heavy initial flow of slick. We wanted to keep the gauze dry for 24 hours.”

“Great. Yeah, sure, take out my ass tampon.” Dean rolls his eyes as the cotton plug comes out and is replaced by the doctor’s fingers. He still feels disturbingly wet there. Wet and _open_. 

“Slick production is healthy. I’m concerned about your channel, though.” Dr. Novak goes to the counter along the far wall and opens a drawer, taking something out of a plastic seal. “So we’re going to insert a dilator for a few hours to give your entry a stretch. You should use them regularly before your first heat.”

“Won’t need it for anything.”

“Well,” Dr. Novak says after a long moment, “It would be malpractice not to ensure your functionality as an omega is as normal as possible after a late presentation. What you decide to do with that afterward is your call.”

Dean looks away, mouth twisting. 

“Hey.” he looks back up at the doctor. “This...is my job, Dean. I wouldn’t let you walk out of here with an untreated broken arm, either.”

“Yeah, I get it.” At least the doctor treats Dean like an adult instead of a dumb kid. He bites his lip as the thick dick-shaped thing slides inside him. He can feel it against his inner walls, but it doesn’t really feel uncomfortable except where it stretches him open. “Makin’ a mess,” he mutters.

The doctor smiles. “There’s disposable padding underneath you. Don’t worry; you’re supposed to be producing slick like this. It’ll taper off this week and you shouldn’t experience these levels again until your heat, except when you’re...”

“Horny?” Yeah. Great. He can hide a boner under his layers, since he’s not exactly hung anyway, but this would be a whole other level of bullshit. 

“Aroused, yes.” Dr. Novak gestures at him to move back up the bed, and when Dean tries to close his legs he whimpers at the feel of the thick dildo thing sticking out of him. “Careful.” Dean can feel himself leak on the padding, and reaches for the sheet and light blanket, but the doctor stops him with a hand on his arm. “No, Dean. You will remain exposed for your dominant until I leave the room, unless I tell you otherwise.” 

Dean’s eyes go wide. Was he starting already? “Wait a min-”

“So yes, your slick production and scent are fine.” 

Wait. What? “I have a scent? Already?” Dean makes a face. 

“Yes. I take it you can’t detect your own scent yet? Or mine?”

Dean squints at him. He knows, of course, that omegas and alphas can smell each other and betas can’t; novels are full of people raving over the scent of hothouse orchids or candy apple or whatever bullshit smells their mates have, but he doesn’t smell anything out of the ordinary besides hospital disinfectant and cafeteria coffee on his own breath. 

“Nah, but I knew you were an alpha right away.” Dean’s pretty good at being able to tell. It helps when your dad’s a bounty hunter. “I can tell sometimes.”

A smile, as the doctor presses on Dean’s inner thighs with strong fingertips, then pushing the dilator in a bit deeper. Dean sucks in a breath at that.

“Yes, but you should be able to scent me, and Benny. Omegas like Garth and Charlie too.”

“What do they smell like?” 

Dr. Novak laughs. “Charlie’s difficult to describe. Sweet green tea, maybe? Garth mostly smells like milk and talcum powder these days, but he’s nursing and has twin babies at home.”

Dean thinks. “Actually, yeah...I smelled baby on the dude.” 

“Well, that’s not really omega scent. He smells like mated omega, mostly, and that’s a bit hard to describe, too; a mix of his own scent and his mate Bess -- roses and hmm...almond? You’ll develop the ability soon, hopefully.”

Weird. “And Benny?”

“Hmm. Cinnamon toast. Not so great if you’re hungry. Then it just makes you want to have some breakfast.” The doctor winks. ‘Presumably his omega partners find it irresistible, but most of the patients here say it’s calming.”

“What, uh…” Dean swallows. “What about me?” If his ass smells like candy apples now, Dean’s going to throw himself out the window.

Dr. Novak leans in and breathes in near the warm curve of Dean’s neck, not his leaking ass, thankfully. He’s kind of embarrassed that he’s still obviously hard, and it’s weird just talking like this, naked, with some kind of medical dildo up his ass. “Your scent is still faint,” Dr. Novak says, leaning back and blowing out a slow breath. “But it smells, well, nice.”

“Nice,” Dean mutters. “Real descriptive. It ain’t like…”

“It’s masculine,” the doctor says, blue eyes on his. “Leather and perhaps...red cedar growing in a forest, after the rain. I think it’s very pleasant. When you’re not anxious and distressed.” 

“Or pissed off.”

“Well, yes.” He pats Dean’s leg. “Much better than a typical 18-year-old beta, at any rate.”

“And what do they smell like?”

“Sweaty gym socks, acne cream, and Axe, mostly.” Dr. Novak grins. He ain’t wrong, Dean thinks. Even a beta can smell that.

“Not like it’ll matter what kinda tree I smell like once I’m on those blockers,” Dean leans back in the bed. 

“No,” Dr. Novak says after a pause. “Then it won’t matter.”

The doctor holds off on checking Dean’s _milk ducts_. “I think you’ve had enough prodding for one morning, hmm? You did very well. You’ll feel better after some rest.” He looks at Dean like he actually cares a little.

Dean should be pissed off, still, but he’s not. He’s not getting dressed and leaving, but he _could_ ; his bag and clothes are right there. 

He’s not going to the Omega Center, or worse. If he has to do, well, naked sub stuff, it’ll be in a house around blue-eyes here (at least he’s hot, right? And nice?) and not in front of an audience, so it’s not like anybody else will see him like that. He’s actually in a much lighter mood than before. “Okay. I’m okay, I guess,” he says.

“Excellent.” The doctor smooths the flat of the sheet near Dean’s leg with his palm. “Relax and recover this afternoon, Dean. I know you’ll be good for me and keep that dilator in until the nurse removes it.”

When Dr. Novak leaves, he quickly pulls the covers up to his chin. And a few minutes later after he’s sure he’s alone, he jerks off quietly and carefully cleans up with a tissue.

\-- _The Day Before_ \--

“You’re newly-mated, Cain,” said Balthazar. “Not to mention, fresh off your honeymoon! It wouldn’t be fair to Colette. You know how demanding it is, pulling A of R duty for that long. And aren’t you on heat leave next week?”

The Chief of Surgery rolled his eyes. “My omega is well-aware of my professional responsibilities…” he trailed off as the head staff psychiatrist, also an omega, shook his head slowly. 

_“Really?”_ Balthazar added a scathing look. “I mean, really, though? Of course, we can get him a placement in the Wichita training school. It’s not bad.”

Castiel thinks of the omega’s gruff father, the smell of whisky breath before noon that definitely wasn’t part of his alpha scent, such a contrast to his son’s emergent bracing-yet-warm omega aura. He’d signed Dean Winchester over to the clinic specifically. Maybe he wasn’t the best parent, but if he didn’t have means or want to train his son himself, he could have simply dropped him off at the state-run facility. He could have also chosen any random clinic in the city to get his boys their shots and checkups, but he’d chosen the one attached to the best omega care centre in the region. Perhaps he wasn’t as surprised by Dean’s orientation as he’d seemed. Castiel didn’t really give a damn about the boy’s father, but it would be a shame to let the omega down again.

“I’m more than happy to take on the responsibility,” Amara spoke up, running a glossy fingernail over the photocopied photo of the omega’s obviously fake Alaska driver’s license clipped to the cover of his file.

Cain nodded, hands steepled. “Perhaps the obvious choice. He’s heterosexual.”

“He’s not,” Balthazar cut in. “He’s bi.”

“But he said-”

“In front of his father.” Castiel met Balthazar’s eyes. He’d overheard John Winchester putting down Cain’s “girly man bun,” among other things. Cain was a lot of things, but girly wasn’t one of them. 

“Exactly.” Balthazar nodded. “He was basically outed as submissive with the delayed omega presentation. Daddy’s an alpha dominant and as hetero and heteronormative as they come, and he has some aggression issues. You can all work out how likely it is that he was ever aware that his son swings both ways. Dean didn’t address that, but he mentioned his bisexuality unprompted in our session after he was informed that anything he chose to divulge in the initial session would only be shared with clinical staff, with his permission.”

Amara surveyed the file, playing with her earrings; dangling alpha symbols. “But he has no experience with men at all. He may have thought about it, but now that his role is purely as the penetrated partner...”

“...and now he has a month or so away from his transient nuclear family where he can freely respond to a male alpha dominant without fear of judgment. Ideally a calm, patient, male alpha dominant whose speciality is late-presenting omegas…” Balthazar tapped his lips with his pen and gazed upward. “Whoever could I have in mind?”

Castiel’s mouth quirked. “I’d be happy to handle his training.”

After a 3-1 vote with Amara dissenting, Cain stood. “I have somewhere to be. Good luck, Castiel. That young man will need a firm hand.”

Amara pushed back her own chair. “That, and very intense scening. Let me know if you need an assist.”

“I will,” Castiel said solemnly. “Thank you.”

“See you, Amara. Nice earrings. Delightfully subtle.” Balthazar rolled his eyes and lowered his voice after she swept out. “They’d break that boy in half.”

“I expect so,” Castiel shook his head. “He’s anxious enough as it is. It’s not the same for the late-presenters.”

“Of course it isn’t. I would know. I was sixteen myself,” Balthazar confided. “But I was also fairly disappointed I hadn’t already presented as omega, and I was more than fine with it. Dean’s resistant. Which is...well, he doesn’t have to accept his designation after he gets through heat. Anatomically, he can absolutely pass for beta, and he has these flashes of assertive swagger unusual in submissive omegas. By the time anyone gets his pants off, they won’t care what he’s not packing.”

Castiel sighed. “I know. He knows that as well. He plans to go on blockers.”

“And despite all of that, you still need to hit his milestones before his heat. I think it’ll be easier for him to accept submitting to a dominant than the omega aspects, honestly. He’s been responsible for his brother since they were small, and the swagger is partially put on to cope with his father’s expectations. I think he’ll actually find structured submission a massive relief. He can finally be himself, once he figures out what that is. He’ll probably never be one of those docile omegas, but come on, they’re rare anyway. Lord knows that’s not me.” Castiel gave a snort at that. “I’d love to see him again for another assessment once he settles in.”

“There’s so much overlap.” Castiel pinched between his brows. “The usual daily spankings can’t happen because of transference from his father’s punishments. Chastity is standard, but he needs to transition his pleasure response from the penis first. He hasn’t ever had an anal orgasm. God, maybe Amara would have been better.” He played with a paperclip. _I can’t give him what he needs. She can._ He didn’t say the words out loud, but Balthazar knew what he was thinking anyway, if the look he gave Castiel was any indication. 

“You love saving people,” the psychiatrist said. Castiel rolled his eyes. “All doctors do, you bloody idiot.”

“Call her in for his heat if you don’t want to tap one of the alpha contractors on staff.” Bal knew that Castiel never has sex with omegas when he’s their Alpha of Record. “But Amara would have the boy on a choke chain with her dick in his mouth and a set of giant beads up his arse the first day,” Balthazar said. “Trust me, I’m familiar with her methods.” Castiel raised his eyebrows, and Balthazar gave him a wink and a pat on the back as he rose. “You’ll do fine, I’m sure.”

**Public Training Notes: Dean Winchester**  
Age: 18  
Gender: Male Omega (late presenting)  
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual  
Sexual Experience prior to training: Top only, heterosexual, oral and vaginal.  
Secondary Orientation: Submissive. Masochism Level TBD, Discomfiture (Humiliation) Receptivity Level TBD  
Status: Minor (unclaimed and unmated)  
Alpha/Dominant of Record: Dr. Castiel Novak  
First Heat/Knot: (Omega within 30-day window) TBD  
Height: 5’11”  
Weight: 155  
Hair: Lt Brown  
Eyes: Green

 **Private Training Notes** (following initial examinations and interview): Castration is postponed indefinitely; Omega (Dean Winchester) is experiencing psychological difficulty accepting secondary gender designation and may opt to retain testes and utilize hormonal blockers following first heat. Scenting capability not yet apparent. Alpha of Record (Dr. Castiel Novak) to protect and prepare Omega physically and emotionally for elements of initial heat prior to first knot and medically-induced lactation. Omega’s sexual experience is limited to beta practices (has engaged in mutual oral sex with female betas and in solitary and mutual masturbation.) He _must_ be trained to depend solely on alpha-administered penetrative anal stimulation for orgasmic release.

Omega has not fully embraced his Submissive identity, but objections are token and he does obey, if reluctantly, and treats his Alpha of Record with appropriate respect. He was relieved to find that he will not be spanked/paddled nor receive impact-related punishment for submission maintenance (he has been punished this way by a parental figure; being struck makes him react with upset versus healthy obedience and submissive headspace). He is unfamiliar with most Omega Submissive protocols. Omega has selected a confidential safeword.

Training milestones prior to initial heat (according to Kansas and national Omega guidelines) include Traditional Submissive Positions for inspection, examination, and sexual reception, compulsory domestic nudity, and standard protocols in preparation for eventual mating by an Alpha Dominant. 

The next night in the clinic annex, Garth rolls Dean on his side and gives him an enema, then (also without warning!) puts in a bigger dilator, and it’s not comfortable at all; it feels like it’s wedging his asscheeks apart, because it is, and he can’t find a good position to sleep in. 

“On your belly’s good,” the nurse says. “Let’s put a pillow under your hips so your backside is elevated.” 

“I don’t know why I need to do all this crap anyway,” Dean complains. 

“Doctor’s orders,” Garth clucks. “But you’ll be glad you did when your heat rolls around, the first knot’s a real doozy, and you’re tight as a tick.”

“Don’t plan on it.”

“Oh, well...during first heat it’s necessary for omegas. Don’t worry, though. After that it’s slick sailing.” He leaves the room with Dean’s stuffed ass just hanging out in the open. It’s not cold in here, but still.

Dean makes a frustrated noise at the compounded indignities and drops his head onto his pillow. 

The next day, Dean’s transported down two long corridors to the entry of the clinic and out to Dr. Novak’s boring silver Mercedes SUV, the duffle bag his dad had thought to leave with him on his lap. Dr. Cain had said wearing a hospital robe would be okay “if your alpha dominant prefers that you remain unclothed,” with a weird look at Novak, but fuck no, he’s not an omega like _that_ , and his “alpha dominant” doesn’t say shit, and when they turn him over to a nurse to get ready to go, Dean pulls on a black tee and a flannel and his favorite jeans.

“Dude, I don’t need a friggin’ wheelchair,” Dean complains, but Benny insists, saying it’s a clinic rule. Benny still doesn’t smell like anything. Maybe hand sanitizer.

Dr. Novak’s house is the fanciest one he’s ever been in, except for that one time one of Dad’s bounty hunts took them to some drug dealer’s crib near Reno. But this place is classy. Dean supposes a doctor must make good money, if he’s got an $70,000 ride to drive five miles to work. It’s just one story, but there are wide plank dark wood floors and fancy silky-looking Oriental rugs and a big leather sectional sofa and real modern art (there’s one that looks like maybe a Warhol, Sammy would probably know) and real trees in pots, indoors. It smells nice, too. He gives Dean a tour, and Dean, walking gingerly (still doesn’t need a wheelchair, thanks, but his ass is still a little sore and he’s got a giant maxi pad thing in his pants just in case) notices a hot tub on the back deck and a pool the right size to do laps. 

“Nice joint,” Dean says, when the doctor shows him the sunny guest room with a brass bed and an antique-looking dresser, and puts his bag on a long, padded bench at the bed’s foot. He feels grubby and somehow lacking in comparison to everything in this house; he notices too late that his right sock has a hole in it. They take their shoes off at the door and put them on a shelf inside a closet made just for this, because of course they do.

“I had help from a decorator,” Dr. Novak shrugs. “Someone my sister-in-law Amelia recommended.”

“You let a lot of charity cases stay here?” 

“Hmm,” the doctor replies. “I’ve only had family stay over since moving in last year; my brother Jimmy and his family, and my sister Anna, and my mother, and I’m willing to bet you’re less trouble than Naomi, at least. Oh, and a few colleagues once in a while as a favor. But you’re not a charity case, Dean.”

“Yeah. I’m literally a charity case.” Since the doctor’s so literal, and all.

“Well, to me, you are a patient of sorts, and a houseguest, and I’m looking forward to your company.” 

Dean rubs his palms on his jeans. “You’re not gonna...” he hazards a glance at the doctor. “I don’t have to take my clothes off?”

“You certainly may, and if you’d be more comfortable nude, please do.” Dean looks at him like he’s nuts and gets a soft, wry smile in return. “But I won’t require it. I think you’ve had enough to get used to your first week after being hit out of nowhere with your orientation.”

Dean nods quickly, relieved. “Yeah.”

“There will be times when I’ll want you to undress, for examinations and training, and I do expect you to promptly comply, and of course submissives sleep naked, but the rest of the time, you can wear whatever you like. Deal?”

“Yeah. Okay. Do you want me to call you, uh...Master or whatever? Sir?” Look, Dean’s seen things. Porn things. Subs are supposed to- 

“No. Definitely not. This isn’t…” the doctor grimaces and runs a hand across his jaw. “I won’t ask you to do that, Dean. Though ‘Alpha’ is fine, if you want to. Do that. So. Make yourself at home. We’ll eat after you’ve put your things away. I’ll...leave you to it.” 

He leaves the room, and Dean sits carefully on the bed. The last time he’d been a charity case, at Sonny’s, there were no omegas staying there, but he’d gone to Robin’s to drop off a mixtape he’d made her (sue him, he had a crush) and he remembers her father taking it at the door and telling him Robin was “indisposed,” and he thought he’d heard her voice. He’d peeked through the side door window (seriously, sue him, he had a crush) and saw her bare-assed, getting her butt warmed with a paddle over her mom’s lap. He hadn’t even realized she was an omega sub. 

Well, like Sonny’s, this is just another place Dean’s dad will pick him up from some night after about a month whether he wants to go or not. Not that he doesn’t want to get the fuck out of here. 

He’s unable to remember the last time he’d actually totally unpacked all of his stuff except to dress or dump ‘em into a machine at a laundromat or at Bobby’s. He decides he could kill some time, so he does that, shoving his jeans and t-shirts into drawers and putting the two flannels on hangers in the closet that’s otherwise empty except for a fancy dark grey bathrobe, a couple of winter coats and a set of tennis rackets. He’s relieved to see the robe; what if there’s a fire and he needs to leave his room? He lays it across the bench at the end of the bed.

He has a couple of dogeared paperbacks he’s already read, and he stashes those on the nightstand, then opens the empty drawer and puts them away. This place is too perfect to mess up. Except for the robe. That’s staying put.

He makes his way down the hallway; there are other rooms there besides a bathroom across from where he’s staying. One door is cracked and it looks like the doctor’s bedroom, another door is locked, but it oughta be a breeze to pick. The other also has a standard Schlage lock AND a digital code thing. He supposes if it’s some kind of sex dungeon, he’ll find out about it soon enough.

With a sigh, Dean heads to the kitchen, where Dr. Novak’s dishing up the roasted chicken and potato salad they’d picked up on the way home.

Dean’s just waking the next morning when there’s a knock on the door frame. “Good morning,” the doctor says. It looks like he’s already dressed for work, and his hair’s still damp. “Did you sleep okay?”

He blinks. “Um. Yeah.” He did, surprisingly. Or not, since he hadn’t had a nurse bugging him every couple of hours. His ass had been dragging before he’d stumbled towards the bathroom and the bedroom the night before, and he’d felt warm hands on his shoulders stopping him as he’d started to crawl into bed. He’d stood there swaying as his t-shirt had been gently pulled over his head, and Dean belatedly unfastened his own belt and zipper. 

A quiet voice.“Good, that’s good, Dean.” His clothes had been folded and set on the bench, the soft covers carefully drawn up over his bare shoulders. “Sleep well.”


	2. Chapter 2

“All right. Up on your knees on the bed, rear facing me.” Dean stifles a groan and untangles his legs from the sheet. “Put your elbows and head down. This position is called present, because you’re presenting your channel for your dominant. Arch your back a bit more. Excellent, Dean. Very good.”

He feels very, very naked like this, with his ass up in the air and morning sun painting the room in golden light, even more so when warm hands part his cheeks. The doctor grabs something out of his bag next to Dean’s ankle and he hears plastic being unwrapped, His heart speeds up. Fuck, is that a condom? He twitches and straightens up as a finger slides into him, not rough or anything, just, well... he’d expected this, but he’s freaking out anyway, and then Dr. Novak lays a hand on his back.“Dean, breathe. Relax for me. Don’t be nervous. It’s okay.”

“What’s-”

“Just an omega thermometer. We’ll get a baseline now and check your slick and temperature twice a day so we’ll be prepared for your heat.” He’s eased back down and feels something hard and thick push inside him, and gasps. “Another inch. Good.”

“How d’you know it’s not a fever?” Dean asks, a little breathless. God, it’s...deep. 

“This little device also measures slickness and internal dilation.” Dean flinches as a finger slips in along with the thermometer, stretching his hole. 

“Ah!”

“Shh. You’re doing well. Just another minute or so.” The thing beeps eventually and Dr. Novak eases it out along with his finger and indicates Dean can sit up. 

He wants to grab the sheet and hide but he takes a deep breath. Okay. That wasn’t bad.

“It isn’t that little,” Dean can’t help grumping, though. It looks like one of those old school vibrators. 

“Yes it is,” the doctor says with a smile as he strips the condom thing off of it. “You just to learn to relax for penetration. The dilators will help.” He gestures at the box on the dresser. 

Dean bites back a reply. Sure, alphas are hung, but betas bottom too, not a big deal. What else does he need to train his ass to do? Sit? Stay? He supposes it knows doggy-style now.

“Don’t leave the property without me, as we discussed on the drive home. The housekeeper will be here later in the morning.” He eyes Dean’s battered budget-model pay-as-you-go phone on the nightstand. “I’ll call the house phone later, and the clinic number and my personal cell number are on the counter in the kitchen if you need anything.” 

“Uh, okay.”

“The shower’s a little tricky. Do you need me to-”

“I can figure it out,” Dean snorts.

“Ah. Well.” Dr. Novak lets out a breath. “Good. I’ll see you tonight, Dean. Perhaps we can get a pizza. Do you like pizza?”

“Doc, everybody likes pizza.”

Dr. Novak pats Dean’s shoulder. “I suppose that’s true. There’s fruit and cereal in the kitchen and lunch...things. Have a good day getting settled in.”

He’s told again not to leave the property for any reason, and Dean nods as he disappears with his doctor bag and waits until he hears the garage door before getting up to see how complicated a shower can be.

Between patients, and much more often than that, Castiel’s mind goes to Dean. He calls the house twice, and the omega sounds absolutely fine, answering the second time with his mouth full of sandwich, which makes him grin and tease the boy. He’d gambled that he wouldn’t leave despite his lack of enthusiasm about his status. 

It would be simpler, perhaps, for Cain. He’d expressed disbelief that Castiel was actually forgoing spankings. “Over the knee or presenting, twenty from the dominant’s hand or ten from a paddle before breakfast and just after the nightly enema. Nothing settles them as well as a sore, pink bottom.” Daily maintenance spankings became an almost universal procedure after mandatory public nudity had been phased out and spankings went out of fashion for disciplining children; regular reinforcement of omega submission had to be handled somehow, and any alpha dominant could administer a standard spanking or paddling if an omega needed it.

Most omegas accepted the routine, either grudgingly (or enthusiastically, because kinks are kinks,) but Castiel has promised he wouldn’t spank the submissive. What Dean doesn’t know is that he doesn’t really need to use the thermometer either; he’ll be able to scent the omega’s pheromone changes before he goes into heat. But putting his naked omega in a traditional position twice a day for deep penetration? Castiel has other methods in reserve, but for now he’s sure the routine will be as effective as a spanking for reminding Dean that his role is to submit to his alpha. 

He’s reminded that Dean didn’t actually dispute his sub level. Balthazar had said that he almost seemed relieved he didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Castiel guesses he’ll find out if that’s true, in time. At least, he tells himself, aside from having pretty green eyes, Dean is nothing like Michael. 

_Pontiac, Illinois. The morning after Castiel and Jimmy’s 17th birthday party._

“He said he’d come,” Castiel muttered into his pillow. 

“He’s a dick,” Jimmy replied from the other bed in the room. He had his own room now that Luc and Gabe were out of the house, but more often than not, the twins gravitated towards one another. “How many times have I told you that?” 

“You’re biased.”

“Yeah, biased by reality. What did I tell you last week?”

“He wouldn’t do something like that.” Castiel had run into Michael at the mall, away from the usual coterie of asshole alpha friends. (Not every alpha was an asshole, cases in point: Jimmy and himself, obviously, but the people Michael had surrounded himself with after he presented and stopped talking to Castiel, Bartholomew, Marv, and Dick Roman, were definitely assholes. Well, Marv was a beta, but an asshole nonetheless.) He’d thought he and Michael had a real connection; sharing food court pizza, looking through CDs at the music store. He’d even bought Michael some designer sunglasses he’d wanted and he’d been really sweet and thanked him with a hug. It was nothing like when Castiel’s crush since fifth grade was around his horrible gang.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “He totally traded those shades for drugs, Cassie.”

“He told me that they broke.”

“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but you’re the one with the rose-colored glasses around that guy. He might be pretty, but he’s a monumental jerk just like his buds.”

Castiel tossed a pillow at Jimmy’s head. “I don’t say mean things about Amelia.”

“That’s because Amelia isn’t evil.” 

Of course she’s not, and she’s Castiel’s friend as well as Jimmy’s girlfriend. He fiddles with the newly-bent spine of the mystery he’d fallen asleep reading after the party. “Michael’s friends aren’t...good, but that’s them, not him.”

“Fuck, you’re blind.”

Castiel scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Cassie, just...ask somebody else out, please? Another omega? Alfie’s nice. Gad, maybe? A beta? One of the girls from your science club?” Jimmy sits up on his bed. “I just wanna see you happy.”

“Michael makes me happy.”

“Michael throws you crumbs because he knows you’ll vacuum them up. Because you, my handsomest brother, are a sucker.”

“Whatever you say. I’m taking a shower.”

“Good. You smell like unrequited lust. And also, Fritos.”

“Disgusting. I do _not_.” Castiel threw his other pillow. 

A giggle from the doorway. “Pillow fight?” Anna asked.

“Yes, Anna. Pillow fight,” Jimmy confirmed, tossing their little sister a piece of fluffy ammunition.

Dean’s more than aware that there are things that go bump in the night, and plenty of terrible people who do terrible things out there. His dad hunts fugitives and does a little private investigator stuff on the side and he’ll probably do the same; it’s all he knows, after all, except a fair bit about fixing cars. 

But Dr. Novak’s house, and the doctor himself, whisper _safety_ like no place Dean’s ever known since he was four, probably. Before.

That’s now, though. He’d been on tenterhooks the first two days, and had finally broken after he’d had his omega heat check, on his back this time with his knees spread and bent: “this is called the missionary position,” (duh) and after sitting up, he’d asked the doctor when he planned to fuck him. 

“I don’t plan to,” he’d said bluntly. “You’ll be knotted when you’re in heat, but I won’t do that, either.”

“...really?” Dean’s mouth had dropped open, and Dr. Novak reached out to gently push his chin up. 

“You’ll catch flies.”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. Flies are even afraid to come into this house.” 

“Have you been?” Dean squinted at him. “Afraid,” he clarified. “If you’ve been apprehensive about that, don’t be. Some of our interaction will be...intimate, but you have nothing to fear from me, Dean.”

He’d joked that the doctor could be a mad scientist who brought him home for strange experiments, but Dr. Novak had given him a look of complete bafflement and suggested that maybe Dean watches too many horror movies.

He’s not wrong. Dean really likes horror movies.

The doctor doesn’t care for them, but he likes mystery and detective stories with twist endings and has a lot of Agatha Christie novels and every single Sherlock Holmes movie and show on DVD, but his guilty pleasure is true crime. (He shouldn’t talk, Dean thinks. The bad shit real people do is much worse than any horror movie.)

“I kinda like those,” Dean admits when the doctor scrolls past the romcoms on one of his streaming services. 

“They’re not very realistic.”

“Sherlock isn’t either,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Sherlock is fictional, yes, but I enjoy genius-level crime-solving.”

“Hmm..”

Dean pokes through the library and some of the drawers underneath the full bookshelves and finds them crammed with Ellery Queen anthologies. The short stories are good for when he’s sitting out on the patio or on one of the comfy sofas. He likes that they’re mostly old and homely and dogeared at the corners, like the comics he and Sam used to devour; there’s no way to keep books looking pristine on the road. 

Dean’s dad had taught him once, when he was doing a private investigator gig to get some dirt on a cheating dirtbag, that what people throw away says a lot about ‘em. It’s not like he liked digging through coffee grounds and banana peels and worse to find receipts then, and it’s not like he doesn’t trust Dr. Novak now, but the man is also kind of...the opposite of an open book, and Dean isn’t too proud to look through the bins in the garage. 

The recycling is sorted perfectly, and the paper mail is carefully ripped to prevent identity theft, but he gets a lot of premium credit card offers, Out Magazine (gay) and HGTV’s magazine ( _gay_ , not that Dean’s judging, but he can hear his dad’s voice pretty clearly) and donates to the World Wildlife Fund, Omega Orphans International, and a homeless shelter in Pontiac, Illinois. Dean would think he was a saint if he hadn’t also found three empty bottles of plain Om3ga Sliq lube. Not that what the alpha jacks off with is any more Dean’s business than his discarded mail, but he’s sort of glad it isn’t grape-scented or something. Also, it shouldn’t be hot, but it is.

He only swims when Dr. Novak’s at work; he’d asked if he could borrow some swim trunks and was reminded that omegas don’t wear them. Not wanting to be in the way, he usually goes outside when the housekeeper, a cute beta named Pamela who always has 90s R&B blasting in her headphones, comes twice a week. Who changes the sheets twice a week? Doctors with housekeepers, he guesses.

Dr. Novak doesn’t poke at him too much aside from taking his temperature. He asks how Dean’s feeling and tells him to take a hot bath at night and to use the shower attachment for his channel with lukewarm water. Ew, but Dean does it. He wouldn’t want to be embarrassed by being dirty when he’s examined. He also says Dean should use the dilator dildo things before bed and keep moving up a size every couple of days, but it’s not like he’s checking, so Dean doesn’t bother. He leaves a box of lube (not a black and lurid fluorescent hot pink bottle of Om3ga Sliq, but regular Johnson & Johnson brand) on Dean’s dresser in the guest room next to a new toothbrush and some fancy Italian toothpaste, and stocks the refrigerator and usually brings home takeout at night. 

He’s a little tired of the takeout and jarred spaghetti sauce and frozen stir fry. He could cook something nice to earn his keep. He’s been watching cooking shows and the kitchen’s really fancy. He wants to ask the doctor to buy some spices beyond the basics he has, but he’ll only be here ‘til he has a heat, so whatever. 

A week in, the doctor checks Dean for lactation ability. It’s embarrassing, Dean thinks, sitting on the bench at the foot of his bed with his shirt off, “and why don’t you remove the bottoms too, Dean? Let me check you over” getting his chest prodded. There’s no change, and unfortunately the moment goes from embarrassing to unpleasant when Dr. Novak dabs a numbing cream on each one and injects them in several places. The shots make his nips sore, the buds swollen. 

“Don’t know why you bother,” Dean says, wincing as he reaches for a t-shirt. 

“Please leave that off for a while. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“I’m not gonna have a _baby_ or anything. Goin’ on birth control as soon as I can.”

The doctor sighs. “Dean, you’re 18.”

“So? You said I could.” The doctor may have responsibility for him until his father gets back, but he knows he can get birth control. It’s not against the law or anything.

“No, of course you can, and you definitely should, but you’re young, and you haven’t really experienced being an omega yet. You might change your mind someday and decide you’d like to be a parent, and your body should be able to function normally if you want that to happen.” Dean knows he’s supposed to lactate during his heats, and of course if he has a baby, which he won’t. He just rolls his eyes. 

“What is even the point of lactating” (he spits the word out) “...if I don’t have kids yet? During the heats? None of this shit makes sense.”

“Oxytocin.” The doctor lifts his fingers to press on Dean’s swollen chest gently. “Omegas become highly sexually aroused when they’re stimulated here by their mates, but nursing also creates a sense of calm and happiness and increases intimacy for the omega and their heat partner. Almost all omegas enjoy lactation during heats, and some continue the practice beyond that even if they don’t have children to feed.”

“So...what, they just leak milk all the time? That’s...pretty gross.” 

“They don’t; they only produce when suckled regularly.” Dean makes a face again. “It isn’t gross at all, Dean. It’s perfectly natural for submissive omegas. I’m surprised you didn’t learn this in secondary sex ed.” Dr. Novak gently brushes the side of his thumb against Dean’s hard nipple and meets his eyes. “Doesn’t that feel good?” Dean’s gaze falls to parted pink lips, and he shivers involuntarily and looks away. 

“Yeah, well, one, we moved a lot, so I had maybe one day of that, and two, I thought I was a beta. I didn’t really pay attention to weird-ass omega anatomy.” That was for the alphas in Dean’s sex-ed class anyway. Everybody knew omegas were for alphas. Omegas were pulled out of school as soon as they presented and were home-schooled or they went to omega day schools or mixed boarding schools with a lot of supervision, or the state training centers. He'd made friends with a few who'd left, but Dean moved so much he hardly ever got attached to anybody anyway. He hadn't even gotten to a dance with Robin.

“There are plenty of books about anatomy and human sexuality in the den,” the doctor points out. “Those are the first things I showed you.”

There are. Dean ignores them. After his heat it won’t matter. He’ll basically be a beta again. He’s gonna be normal.

“On the bed now, get into present for me,” Dr. Novak says. After he takes Dean’s temperature, he works his ass open wider with gloved fingers, and he knows he’ll feel a little sore afterward, but the doctor says he’s proud of him, that Dean’s excellent at the position and being still and quiet while his dominant inspects him, that he submits very well. The praise makes his face go warm where it rests on his forearm.

It’s another calm, quiet evening, and Dr. Novak tells Dean to get ready for bed, but to come back out to the living room once he’s undressed. He doesn’t know what to expect, and he finds the alpha leaning forward in his perch on the sofa, sleeves rolled up. He tosses a throw pillow to the floor at his feet. “Can you please kneel on this?”

“Yeah,” Naked, Dean sinks to his knees, feeling nervous. 

“Just like that. Get comfortable.”

Dean settles, and when he looks up, there’s a sex toy in the doctor’s hands - a realistic-looking silicone cock with a button and switch on it. He guesses the thing vibrates, but he has a feeling it won’t tonight. “I understand you’ve engaged in oral sex, but only with female betas, correct? We’re going to begin your oral training.”

The alpha had explained to him earlier that there was a list of omega sub training stuff he was supposed to check off before Dean's heat, state law. He'd turned down a chance to look at it. _"Surprise me,"_ he'd said, but he'd known it would be things like this. “Sure, okay.” Dean manages a nod. He can do this. But. “It’s uh, big.”

“This is an average alpha size, and we’re well aware of our dimensions. Don’t worry; you won’t be expected to take the whole thing into your mouth. Just tap my leg if you need to stop, but otherwise, keep your hands on your thighs, no touching yourself.”

Resolved not to do any tapping, Dean swallows and waits as the doctor shifts forward and the fabric of his pants slides against his bare shoulder. 

“Open your mouth for me, Dean.” He licks his lips and does. “Relax your jaw. Good. Roll your lips over your teeth a bit so you don’t nick or scrape the skin.” It’s not skin, but it feels a little like it as it’s fed into his mouth, smooth but flavorless. Dean feels the weight of it on his tongue, mouth open around the head. “Just another inch. That’s enough. Just breathe through your nose.” Dr. Novak glances at his watch. “We’ll do ten minutes of cockwarming practice the first time.”

Dean looks up at him and blinks, and the doctor’s free hand comes around the back of his head, holding him steady as the other holds the dildo in his mouth. “All omega subs train to do this, generally right after presenting, did you know that?”

Dean tries to shake his head, but the fingertips woven into the strands of hair at the back of his head still him. “Don’t move, just listen.” He goes on to tell Dean that most alpha dominants will want to use their omega submissives orally. Spit pools on Dean’s tongue and the corners of his mouth. “You can swallow if you need to, but try not to move your mouth otherwise. The idea is to provide a nice warm home for your alpha’s penis. That’s very good. You look beautiful like this.”

Dean kind of doubts that, but closes his eyes, and the doctor lets him lean his cheek against his thigh. “That’s it, relax. We’ll work up to thirty minutes, just like this. A typical dominant alpha will likely want to use your hole this way as well, cock all the way inside you, and it’s less comfortable than you might assume, but that’s something we will practice. Don’t worry; this one’s just for oral training.” Dean wants to laugh at that, but he’s got a big dildo on his tongue. It’s probably easier warming a cock the...other way, he thinks, but it sounds awkward. What position would be comfortable for a dom? An omega in his or her lap? In present in front of a chair? He has no idea.

He drifts a bit as he kneels on the squishy pillow, vaguely aware his own small cock is hard and straining upward, and the hand tightens in his hair. “Time’s up now, and you’ve been very good for me. Go ahead and suck.” Dean blinks up at him again and Dr. Novak nods. “Go on. Suck hard on the head, watch your teeth, still.”

He does, sucking and licking like he’s blowing an alpha for real, not that he’s done that before but it’s obvious how it goes, his eyelids fluttering. “Perfect.”

Dean hears the click when Dr. Novak pushes the button on the dildo, and sudden warmth floods his mouth, _wet_ warmth. He jerks in surprise, but the hand in his hair won’t let him move back. “Shh, it’s okay. Swallow now.” He looks up at the alpha and swallows around the dildo, and again when it’s slowly removed. The taste is sweet, familiar.

“It...that doesn’t taste like…”

“No,” the doctor smiles at him. “It’s a flavored liquid made to be used with the trainer. Diluted maple syrup, really.” Dean licks his lips. “Clean the head completely,” he says, and Dean hesitantly leans forward to do that. “Use your tongue. Get every drop. Very good.”

Right, so...the doctor doesn’t say he can’t do whatever, but apparently he can’t walk around the safest neighborhood in Wichita at 3 am “unsupervised” because he can’t sleep.

“I wasn’t going anywhere!” Dean says after he lets himself into the living room through the French doors from the back patio and the light switches on to reveal Dr. Novak in sleep pants with shocking bedhead, glaring at him.

“Dean, I made it very clear you were never to leave without checking with me first.”

“Yeah, well,” Right, that was the rule, but. “You were asleep. I just went for a walk.”

“I will accompany you on any trips outside the property for now. You could go into heat at any time. You are well aware of the risks.”

Dean lets out a breath. “Well, I didn’t. I wandered around for like, 20 minutes. I didn’t even leave the ‘hood.”

“I know you didn’t.” The community was gated. Of course he’d know. “You’ll be punished for this. Tomorrow.” He checks his ever-present smart watch. Or...later this morning.”

“What are you gonna do? Take away my TV privileges? Ground me? Guess I’m already grounded though,” Dean snipes. 

The doctor’s glare is withering. “You’re not ten. Your punishment will be appropriate for an omega submissive, and it will hurt. Think about that.”

Well, now Dean really can’t sleep. 

He’s up first. He usually sleeps until Dr. Novak has left for work already, but it’s a Saturday, and he’s been feeling queasy and worried since he went to lie down after being caught sneaking out.

When Dean hears the doctor’s shower shut off, he straightens out the cloth napkins and silverware on the table, sets out orange juice, and starts cracking eggs over the skillet.

“Breakfast?” the doctor says. 

“Yeah. I thought I’d make it up to you for uh...wakin’ you up last night and breaking the rules. It won’t happen again,” Dean says in a rush. 

“I’m sure it won’t.” He sits and takes a bite of sunny side up egg, chasing it with a link sausage. “Mmm. Very nice.” He glances at Dean, who’s been still, just holding a piece of toast for a while. “Aren’t you eating?” 

“I’m…”

Dr. Novak nods knowingly. “Nervous about being punished.”

“My...my dad, he used to-”

“I won’t strike you, Dean. I promised this when you agreed to stay here. That’s off the table.”

Dean lets out a held breath. “Yeah, okay.”

“At the same time, did you think breakfast would get you off scot-free?”

He drops his head. “...maybe. A little.”

“Well, I see now that if you earn a punishment it will have to be delivered immediately. I don’t want you to suffer in abject dread.” He smiles at Dean, and he can’t help the corner of his mouth lifting in response. Maybe it won’t be so bad. “Charlie’s coming by soon?”

“Yeah, um, in about half an hour.” Dean’s getting more lactation shots. “Are you gonna get it over with before she comes?”

“She’ll be here when you’re taking your punishment.”

Dean doesn’t like that. Why can’t it just be between them? 

“What did you do, kid?” Charlie asks, setting down her supplies bag. 

He eyes the doctor, and rubs the bank of his neck. “I um, left the house in the middle of the night without saying anything. But I didn’t go far!”

“Dean! You could go into heat at any time! Your first heat. God.” Charlie claps her hand on her forehead like Dean’s the biggest dumbass ever.

“So I run a fever and get drippy and pass out in the bushes.”

“Or, you’re taken advantage of. You know what sometimes happens to unmated omegas in heat.”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Dean concedes. “And sometimes people come up and call the contact number on the omega’s phone and their alpha collects ‘em and that’s that. This is fuckin’ Mayberry.”

“I don’t think you understand the aggressive instincts of random alphas confronted by sudden Omega heat-scent, sport-o. It’s like the Bat Signal. A nice neighborhood doesn’t matter.” Charlie shakes her head. “You should never be out of sight of your alpha of record outside the house before your first heat, or later, during your heats.”

“I’m not gonna…” Dean sighs. “So it’s like jail.”

She rolls her eyes. “More like quarantine, and for a month, tops! And I know Dr. Novak takes you out with him when he goes places. Not a big deal, Dean. Dumbass.” Okay. She indicates that Dean should take off his t-shirt for his shots, and he pulls it over his head and tosses it on the sofa. 

The doctor crosses his arms. “Pants too, Dean. And underwear.”

Dean glances at Charlie, who doesn’t react but just starts getting her syringe ready, before unzipping his jeans and pulling them off with his boxers. He shivers in the cool of the room, and thankfully his dick is soft. She’s kinda cute.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom first, Dean?” 

“N-no.”

“Kneel on the ottoman,” Dr. Novak says, and Dean steps to it and gets on his knees, but before he can rest back on his heels, the doctor grabs his buttcheek and pushes so his back is in a straight line with his thighs. “Hands behind your back.” He reaches over to the coffee table and gets something Dean didn’t notice before, some kind of metal ring, and Dean flinches as it wraps and clicks around the base of his small testicles. It’s _heavy_ , and he gasps at the feel of it pulling at his sac.

“It’s a weight, Dean.”

“I can...feel that,” he replies, keeping the snarl he wants to make out of his voice. 

“I have no doubt.” 

Charlie steps up with the numbing cream, but Dr. Novak shakes his head. “Dean will take his injections without anaesthetic today.”

Dean blinks. The shots hurt even with the numbing. 

“Go ahead.” Charlie nods, the traitor, and Dr. Novak grips Dean’s shoulders from behind as she dabs on cold antiseptic and then pushes the needle into several spots around and into his left nipple. He can feel himself tearing up, between the stinging pain of the injections and the weight on his balls. Luckily, she’s quicker than usual, maybe out of pity since she’s an omega too, and she finishes up the right side in a few minutes. Dean bites his lip hard. 

Dr. Novak squeezes Dean’s shoulders and lets go, and then grabs something else from the table and lifts his palm to Dean’s eye level. He has two little steel tweezer things attached to a chain. “These are clamps.” He pinches a stinging nipple between his fingers and attaches one tiny rubber-tipped clamp and tightens it, it hurts, and Dean grits his teeth, but he can’t hold back a gasp and then a sob when he pinches it tighter, and then attaches the other one.

His nipples are _throbbing_. 

“How long was your little adventure last night, Dean?” the doctor asks, picking up the chain and giving it a sharp tug that makes him cry out and sway on his knees.

“H-half...half an hour?” Dean manages. Tears are rolling down his cheeks now. 

“Twenty-four minutes, from the time the silent alarm sounded until you returned to our home,” Dr. Novak says softly, tapping his watch. “You will remain in position for twenty-four minutes, and at that time I will remove the weight and clamps and accept your apology for putting yourself at extreme risk and making your alpha dominant worry. If you move from this position or try to mitigate this punishment, the time will be extended. Do you understand?” Another tug.

“Y-yes,” Dean chokes out. “I’m sorry.” He really fucked up. He knew better.

“Hold the apology until your punishment is complete. Charlie, would you like some coffee? I can make you eggs.” The kitchen is open to the living room, and Dean knows they can see him from there, so he stays in position, trying not to weep, as the doctor sets Charlie up with a muffin to take with her since she has other house calls to make. After that, she pats Dean on the back and he registers her saying goodbye, and Dr. Novak sits on the sofa in front of Dean. When the alarm on his watch goes off, Dean slumps to his heels. He actually sort of got used to the pressure on his sore tits, but they still hurt. 

“Not yet.” The doctor reaches under Dean’s cocklet and removes the ball weight, and Dean sighs when he lets him settle back down. He puts a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and catches his eye. “I am going to remove the nipple clamps now. It will be painful when circulation returns.” 

It can’t be worse than injections and the things being put on in the first place. He guesses he expected them to come off the same way, but the doctor quickly pinches one open and then the other, and it’s _agony_. If he thought the throbbing earlier hurt, and it did, this sharp pain arcing through him is isn’t a patch on that. Dean can’t hold back a shriek of pain, and Dr. Novak quickly pulls him off the ottoman and onto the sofa, and holds him as he cries into his shoulder, careful not to let his tender chest brush against anything. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean rasps. “It hurts, I’m sorry I broke the rules. Sorry. Dr. Novak, I’m so sorry. I won’t do that again. So sorry.” 

“I know, Dean,” The doctor rubs his arm and his back and presses his lips against Dean’s forehead and he whimpers. “And you’re forgiven, sweet boy. You accepted your punishment and endured very well. Shh. I forgive you.” 

Held for a while across his lap even though he’s really too tall for it, Dean can’t help a few more tears, but with the hand not holding him to his shoulder Dr. Novak cups his sore balls. He flinches until he realizes that the gentle touch helps, and the doctor urges Dean’s thighs apart and inches his fingertips back to pet the soft skin behind them, and then shifts him on his lap, reaches back further and sinks his middle finger deep into Dean’s hole.

Dean lets out a soft moan when the finger brushes his prostate, and further back. “Ohhh.”

The doctor chuckles into his hair. “How’s that, omega?” A second finger pushes in to stroke him. “You've been erect for a while, and your channel is very wet.”

“Mmmhm,” and that’s embarrassing somehow? He was hurting, but he still got hard, and slick too? Had Charlie noticed? Dean can’t think too much about that though, because the fingers in his ass feel so nice. He grips at the doctor’s shirtsleeve over his bicep, but whimpers when his chest brushes against the fabric. 

“Here, just lean back, you’ve been punished and forgiven, and it’s time to let that go,” He’s cradled in a strong arm over the doctor’s lap as the fingers stroke in harder, and it’s only a few moments more before he’s close, hips juddering to meet the thrusts then jack-knifing up with the orgasm before slumping back. Panting, he feels the doctor shift him so he can get up and Dean curls onto his side. and when he opens his eyes again a while later, the throw blanket is covering him and he guesses he napped but he’s still so tired, and the doctor’s back with his plate. “Sit up now. Come on.”

Dean sits and rubs his eyes, but when he reaches for the food, Dr. Novak moves the plate away and puts it in his own lap before catching a sausage link in his fingers and raising it to Dean’s lips. “Please eat, Dean.” Blinking, he opens his mouth and chews, and a forkful of reheated eggs, and then another follows, along with freshly-made toast and a sip of cold orange juice from the glass on the table. 

“Thanks,” Dean says when the food is gone. “I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” He searches Dean’s eyes. “And you did take your first punishment well. And you reached sub space. We’ll find another way for you to get there. I-- punishing submissives is not something I actually enjoy.”

Well, that just makes Dean feel guilty.

“Oh. Is that why you, uh…” got me off, Dean wants to ask. He gestures, and the doctor gives him a small smile and a shrug.

“I hadn’t planned to.” He takes a drink from his coffee mug. “You were a good boy, and you earned that.” He gets up and picks up the plate and cutlery. 

The doctor says he trusts him to stay home alone (and not leave) when he goes to the hardware store to get some pool chemicals, and he needs a pegboard for tools in the garage and stuff, but Dean says he’ll go, and he gets numbing cream on his nipples and soft pads taped on so his shirt won’t rub against them, even though they don’t really ache anymore. “I think you’ve been punished enough, don’t you?” Dr. Novak says, pressing gently on the tape. Dean agrees with that, for sure. 

They hit up a drugstore after; the doctor needs razor blades and shaving cream and gets extras for Dean’s bathroom, and Dean stops in the deodorant aisle and puts a stick in the cart. The good, brand name shit, since he’s not paying. Dr. Novak takes it out and inspects the label. 

“Wolfthorn is the sort of sophisticated wolf who wears a suit that has a suave, sweet orange scent. Answer the call of the wild.” he reads off, disbelievingly, and makes a face when he takes off the cap and sniffs. “Jesus Christ.” 

Dean can’t help laughing. “Well, there’s...let’s see…Krakengard.” 

“What?” the doctor reads aloud. “...the unspeakable power of the ancient ocean. Oh. And...citrus. Well then.”

“Umm...Volcano and Charcoal? Or just regular Sport Fresh?” Dean ventures.

“Unscented,” Dr. Novak says, taking the sticks from Dean’s hands and putting them back. “These are for betas. You smell far too lovely to mask your scent with this nonsense.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Dean mutters.

“Trust me,” the doctor says.

_Six years ago_

“You smell different,” Castiel says bluntly, and he does. Still grapefruit, but something else alongside it. Then again, it's been years. Michael blinks at him, then gives him a simpering grin. 

“Heat. Just coming off it.” 

He doesn’t know why he gives Michael the time of day; after running into him at the bar everybody from their old school in Pontiac tended to hit up on the holidays, he’d mixed him up with Jimmy, “Oh come on, I was kidding! We’ve known each other since we were kids, you idiot!” insulted his choice of drink, and asked why he bothered with medical school: “Don’t you have a trust fund?” and that was just in the last half hour. 

He does have a trust fund. Dad’s novels (a lurid horror series Castiel never liked; of the Novaks, only Luc really enjoyed the things) had always sold well and afforded them all a fairly comfortable upbringing, but then “Carver Edlund” had mysteriously disappeared, and the books took off and had been made into a series, and two years ago, he was finally declared dead, which led to another burst of news stories and popularity, then all of the children were informed that he had a generous life insurance policy and they’d each be receiving their inherited share of the royalties. Nothing had really changed for Jimmy or Castiel; Jimmy had found his niche in sales, he still planned on becoming a doctor (who was grateful for every penny going to his education) and Anna was just starting college. Luc and Gabe were adults already. 

Michael puts his phone down on the bar. “I called my roommate and told him I need him gone for the evening,” he told Castiel, "Would you like to buy me another drink?" 

Charlie comes by a few days later and administers the last of the shots, clucking sympathetically when Dean flinches. She returns the next afternoon with two bags from the mall: omega clothes. 

“Why don’t you wear stuff like this?” he asks her. 

“I do.” Charlie looks confused and glances down at her scrubs. “Oh, I mean, not at work. But outside of that, I wear ‘omega stuff’’ all the time.”

“Why?” 

She rolls her eyes. “It’s comfortable? My partner likes it.”

“Orders you to, you mean?” 

Charlie sits down on the bed with a small sigh. “Has Dr. Novak been talking with you about Alpha and Omega relationships, like...at all?”

“He showed me where the books are,” Dean huffs.

“That’s...well, that’s something. Doctors. Ugh. But you thought you were a beta before so I guess you didn’t care. Um. Okay, so, you know omegas and alphas together are only about eight percent of the population, right? And out of that, omegas are about 75 percent female, alphas 85 percent male. Give or take?”

“Yeah.”

“So, obviously there’s a mix there, but most alphas and omegas pair off with one another. If you wanted to bond with an alpha, you’re likely to meet more men, statistically. Are you straight, or…”

“Are _you_ straight?” Dean asks, suddenly defensive.

“No?” Charlie says, looking exasperated. “And my girlfriend is a beta.”

“Okay,” Dean allows. “So she’s not a bossy alpha that makes you wear this kind of stuff,” he holds up a silky, short omega skirt. 

“No, but she’s a bossy beta dom, and she still likes me in them. C’mon, they’re cute.”

“That doesn’t mean that some alphas don’t do that.”

“Yeah. I mean, traditional alphas have a lot of rules. All alphas tend to be more dominant in relationships. But it’s not exactly a burkha, Dean. Or Leia’s gold bikini.”

Dean loses his train of thought for a moment. ‘Cause Princess Leia. 

“But you’re a girl.” Clothes for omegas are all the same; they have skirts. 

“Sexist.”

Why do omegas have different shit to wear anyway? It’s the 21st century.” 

“Geez, you really didn’t pay attention in sec sex ed.”

“Shut up. I skipped school a lot.” 

“Read a book.” Charlie gives him a jovial punch on the arm. “Sorry. Alright. We wear them to designate omega status, which isn’t lower status, but it reminds betas that we’re omega, since they can’t scent us, and they, and alphas, can see a claim mark easily if you’re mated. Omegas run hot, and these are cool. The tops flip up or the shoulder ties are easy to undo for suckling if you have a baby or you nurse your partner. The skirts are...well, yeah, okay, the skirts are for access too, and kinda go back to the days of public claiming and discipline when we had to be bare all the time, so that’s just a hold over, because it’s the custom for omegas to be available to their alphas, but more traditional and dominant alphas still want their omegas totally naked at home if they’re submissive like us, and the omega clothes are just for going out.”

Dean opens his mouth. He knows that, but it’s still fuckin’ weird.

“...but there’s nothing wrong with that, and omegas like it, too,” Charlie quickly adds.

“Why?”

“It shows respect for and submission to your dom. It feels good? And it’s sexy.”

“You walk around in your birthday suit at home?”

“Yeah? Not if the super’s over fixing the sink, or my girlfriend’s parents come to dinner, ‘cause they’re betas and Dorothy coming out of the closet was enough of a surprise to them -- they’re totally cool with their gay kid, though, and they love me, I should give ‘em credit. But the rest of the time, sure. But there are alphas and betas who hang out in the buff, too. It’s your own house, dude. Get comfy. Let it all hang out. Fly free.”

“Nudist,” Dean snorts. 

“Wow, prude much?” Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not a prude,” Dean protests, though there’s an alpha and omega section at the lake and he’s refused to go with Dr. Novak because not everything has changed; if he has to swim naked, he’s glad he has a private pool. 

Charlie punches Dean’s arm. “If you think you’re not a prude now, just wait until your instincts kick in, omega. Oh, and I brought something else, and this is from me.” Dean opens up another bag to find a few flat tins of lotion. It looks like the body butter stuff Rhonda had in her bathroom, but... "Secret omega weapon."

“...it doesn’t smell like anything.”

“Duh. Your alpha's super scent-sensitive, and he wouldn't have volunteered to train you if he didn't like the way you...anyway, this is for your whole bod, after you get out of the shower. Seriously, if you’re gonna be showing off more skin, and you are, it should be soft. Dr. Novak will love it.”

“It’s...it’s not like that,” he stammers out.

“Uh huh.”

Dean wants to reject the clothes, and balks and shoves one of the bags away when Charlie mentions the harnesses “to hold in your plug, you know?” but a few hours after she leaves he goes into his bedroom and tries on an omega skirt. It’s luxuriously soft and silky compared to Dean’s cheap cotton boxers. The tops are light and floaty too, and look better (and feel much, much better) over his swollen, sensitive chest than his own t-shirts, and the skirts...well, Dean rationalizes those by telling himself that the Romans wore togas and there were kilts in Braveheart, plus, it’s summer. The material covers everything when he sits down, and the ones Charlie picked out aren’t sissy colors or ruffly or anything, just solid navy blue and forest green and a deep, dark red. If he squints at the mirror, it’s almost like he’s wearing basketball shorts and a tank.

Okay, well. More like a cheerleader’s uniform. But it’s hot as balls out. “You know what? Fuck it,” Dean tells his reflection.

He wears the blue camisole top and skirt for the rest of the day, and his glare dares Dr. Novak to comment when he comes home from work. 

“We can go shopping for more items,” the doctor says later. Dean could go into his first heat any day now, and until then, they don’t take trips longer than the supermarket or the drive-through, or the ice cream shop a short ride away.

“Can’t afford it,” Dean says, though he still has nearly ninety bucks in his wallet, the spoils from pool sharking with his dad, and there’s no point to it when he won’t wear this stuff later anyhow; it’s not like he’s gonna stay an omega any longer than he has to. “Charlie wouldn’t take any money for it, either. She said you gave her a credit card to use.”

“I did,” Dr. Novak replies. “It’s my responsibility as your alpha to make sure you have everything you need, and you needed summer clothing. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“Thanks. I mean, thank you for this, but I don’t wanna go out in ‘em,” Dean says quietly. He feels too obvious in the thin, cool outfit, even though it’s really comfortable. 

“Keep them for wearing at home for now, then.” Dean nods at that. “Good.”

That leads to another issue Dean hasn’t anticipated, until the doctor pulls him aside after breakfast on a Saturday. “Dean,” he asks, “how often do you have erections like this?”

Dean blushes like it’s his job. He wakes up with morning wood, like...always, and he gets hard every time the doctor uses the omega thermometer because it actually feels good now, and it seems like he almost had more random boners now than before instead of getting slick like he had at the clinic. (He tells himself that the thin, silky fabric of the omega clothes is a little bit responsible for Dean being low-key turned on half the time, and that his hard cock had gone under the radar since he’s not exactly swinging an alpha-sized dick, but he guesses he’s been kidding himself.)

The doctor’s surprised to find this out, and even more surprised that Dean’s not using the dilators or dildos in the box he’d been given and beating off instead, which Dean admits with a furious blush when questioned. Hey, it’s hard to change the jacking habits he’d had since puberty, even if he hadn’t actually presented as a beta.

He leaves the room for a moment, comes back with a small box, and has Dean stand. Dean’s omega skirt is tugged down to his thighs, but at least his cock’s calmed down by now. Dr. Novak fusses with the box and slides something onto his junk and then something else, and two clicks later there’s clear plastic encasing his dick, making it look even smaller.

“What’s this for?”

“Your body’s a bit confused, and still channeling your primary sexual response to your penis, which is not appropriate for omegas. You can’t help that, but a chastity cage will help, for now ”

“For now? How long do I have to wear this thing?” 

“We’ll revisit it after your heat.” Dr. Novak gives him a smile. 

“That...that could be two more weeks,” Dean protests, voice rising. “I can’t wear this that long. I can’t even, I can’t get hard.”

“Exactly, you can’t. The cage will prevent you from becoming fully erect and remove the temptation to masturbate by touching your cocklet. When you feel arousal, you’ll hopefully become slick instead as you have before, and if not you can use synthetic slick. Stimulating your channel with the toys will allow you to orgasm.”

“But...I,” Dean shakes his head, feeling panicky all of a sudden. He’d known he was bi forever, basically, but he’d never really had anything inside him besides a finger during a blowjob one time before he’d presented, and twice a day with the heat checks, and that time after his punishment, and he guesses the dilator in the hospital, but he’d been all...that was different. He’d only messed around with girls. And he’d only ever made himself come before by playing with his dick. “I can’t get off like that.”

“It will take practice,” the doctor tells him, slipping the skirt back up, patting Dean’s plastic-covered cock over the soft fabric. “This will help to re-route the signals so that you can experience arousal through your channel. Healthy omegas orgasm easily from penetration.” 

“How am I supposed to piss, or wash in the shower?”

“There are holes in the cage, so just sit down when you go to the toilet, and use the bidet to wash up. If you like, you can come find me, and I will unlock you briefly as I will when you bathe, but I will supervise.” 

“Supervise?” Dean makes a horrified face. “Dude. You can’t keep me from jacking off. This is America.”

“You are underage, and I’m your alpha and your dominant of record,” the doctor says. “So I most certainly can. I understand that you were used to a certain level of...liberty when you and your father believed you were a beta, and I apologize for not discussing this in more depth before now, but I thought it would be better to ease you into your role as an omega and a submissive. I have been very lenient with you to this point.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but Dr. Novak’s not wrong about that, excepting the punishment for sneaking out, but he’d earned that one. He’s not cruel or anything, and he’s lucky, considering. Hell, 60 years ago, he’d have been obliged to be naked in public, leashed even, spanked in front of god and everybody if he broke a rule, and Dean’s never seen a period film or an old photo of an exposed male omega with a hard-on. Of course, none of them had balls, either. “I thought you were cool. Uh, not cool, exactly, but.” He shrugs.

The doctor smiles a little and raises Dean’s chin in his hand. “Dean, I’m really not being very strict. Legally, I control every aspect of your sexuality, and I _could_ require you to wear a locking plug and limit or completely prohibit anal masturbation as well, if I decide that absolute chastity was in your best interest.”

Dean sputters in protest.

“It’s not at all unusual for omega submissives. However, that is not the case right now and you’re...adjusting, I have provided you a generous measure of personal freedom and privacy and a prodigious collection of sex toys, and you may have as many orgasms as you like.”

“Yeah. Sure. As long as I have ‘em through my ass.” 

“Precisely.” He reaches out as if to pat Dean’s hip, but drops his hand instead. “And now you can wear your new omega clothes without worrying about inappropriate erections.”

As if Dean hadn’t wanted to wear skirts in public because his boner might show. He huffs. “That’s not why.” 

A beta is a beta, an alpha, too; but an omega, in an obvious omega getup like that? There’s no way not to know how they have sex, that they bend over for a knot, and he got enough catcalls to last a lifetime as a ‘pretty” beta, thanks, but he’s not going to explain that to Dr. Novak. He’s an alpha. The worst they get is accused of being aggressive dicks, and he’s not like that at all, though he guesses that he’s bossy. But other than that, he’s kinda...atypical. 

Maybe the doctor doesn’t care, doesn’t think it’s tough to be a male omega, but that doesn’t mean other people don’t stereotype.

The next time they go out to the store, Dean eases his jeans with a rip in the knee over his regular boxers and caged cocklet and pulls a plaid flannel over the dark red tank top, heat wave be damned.

“So, are you gay, or?” They’re playing Monopoly, which Sam has always kicked Dean’s ass at, because he only likes buying railroads and utilities and doesn’t care about putting houses on streets. The battered box that usually lived in the trunk of his dad’s Impala between apartments and motels was missing a lot of pieces; Dean would let Sam be the dog, and he’d play with a nickel or a bolt or whatever he found in his pockets. Tonight in Dr. Novak’s den, he gets to be the car. It’s gold, and the game board is wood, and there are drawers for the money. He hadn't know a fancy version of Monopoly existed.

“Bi,” Dr. Novak says. “Which is to say, I’m indifferent to gender.” 

“Blond, brunette, or redhead?” Dean asks, and the doctor looks at him quizzically. “What do you like best? In terms of what’s hottest?”

He shrugs in reply. “Also indifferent, I suppose.”

“Sub or switch or...I dunno?” 

The doctor takes his turn in the game and follows the instructions on the Community Chest card. 

“Well?”

“I suppose it would depend on the person,” Dr. Novak says. 

“What was the last person you dated like?”

“A woman. Sub. Beta,” he says.

Dean’s eyebrows go up. “A beta?” Alpha and beta couples are unusual. Not so much when it comes to the high school kind of hookups he’s familiar with, but an alpha can’t knot a beta or another alpha. They can still have _sex_ , but… “When was that?”

“A while ago. I’ve been very busy with work. It’s your turn, Dean.”

He’s been brushed off, he knows. Dean takes his turn. “Doc, you ever go to see one of the Wingnuts games?”

“The baseball team? No.”

“We could maybe go, right?” 

“I don’t think you need to be out in a public setting for that long before your heat. We don’t know how fast it-”

“I get it,” Dean says, looking away.

“I’d like to take you, though. Afterward. That would be fine.”

Dean says nothing. After his heat, he’ll be gone.

Dr. Novak’s due at home in a few hours, and Dean’s spent most of the day by the pool, reading or just relaxing stretched out on one of the chaises between dips to cool off. Nobody can see him, since there’s a wall around the place and tons of trees, it’s actually nice not having to sit in damp swim trunks when he gets out of the water, and at least he won’t have tan lines.

He’d thawed out hamburger; there’s a fancy gas grill on the patio that looks like it’s never used (he gets dressed for that) and he seasons the meat and chops onions before discovering there are no buns. He’s about to call and ask his alpha to pick some up on the way home (even if it does ruin the surprise -- they were going to order food, probably) but he finds a gift basket in the pantry with yeast and a rolling pin in it, a breadmaking kit. It’s clearly a gift and untouched, so Dean decides to make rolls. It can’t be that hard, he thinks, and they’re a success, even if they’re not perfectly round. 

Dr. Novak seems really pleased with the burgers, even if the only side is a handful of pretzels. “I thought you might be fond of cooking,” he says, wiping his mouth with a laugh. “When I put on Netflix at night the account recommends chef programs. You’ve screwed up the algorithm entirely.” 

“Sorry.”

“No need! In fact, the grocery store does deliveries now. I’ll set up an account and you can order whatever you’d like. If you promise to try to keep it healthy; we need veggies with dinner.” 

“I would have made a vegetable!” Dean protests. “All we have are frozen peas, and I used the last onion. Peas would be weird with a burger off the grill.” 

“You’re right, of course.” 

They sit on the patio until dusk, and Dean tells Dr. Novak about bounty hunting. Not that he did _that_ much with his dad, but he tells him about how he used to watch Sammy when dad was gone, and then got to help with stakeouts and some of the PI stuff sometimes, ‘cause people will talk in front of a kid if they don’t think the kid’s listening. The doctor seems interested in everything, and Dean tells him about Winchester surprise, too. “It’s not great, but I made it sometimes when we had a kitchen, because...my mom used to make it, you know? My dad’s version sucks, but I improved on it.”

“No one in my family really cooks,” the doctor muses. “We had a nanny growing up, and my parents were gone most of the time. The nanny made sure we had all our vitamins and minerals, but it wasn’t fancy. I’m afraid my tastes are pretty pedestrian and not exactly Le Cordon Bleu.”

Dean eyes him. “So you’re saying you’d eat Winchester surprise.”

“I just might.”

Dr. Novak brings him into the master bedroom after they clean up, and Dean’s told to undress and go to the bathroom if he needs to. He’s ready for the thermometer, but the doctor has him lie on his back and lift his arms, and he attaches cuffs that attach to the headboard somehow. Dean’s nervous when his ankles get cuffed too; his legs are spread-eagle on the big bed and can’t really move at all. Dr. Novak takes off his chastity device and brushes warm palms over his nipples, raising them to hard peaks, and Dean gasps.

Maybe this is a reward for dinner? 

“You’ve been out in the sun today,” he says, putting on gloves and getting a packet of lubricant from the case by Dean’s bare hip. He uses it sometimes on the thermometer, but he’s slick already, he can feel it. Maybe he’s gonna get fucked, though? He can’t honestly say he doesn’t want to. Dr. Novak’s...well, he’s hot. He’d said he wouldn’t do that, but maybe he changed his mind. “You have a tan, and even more freckles.” His smile is soft.

“Yeah, I like laying out and I,” his breath hitches as the doctor lifts his dick, and he closes his eyes to enjoy the touch, but there’s something…he lifts his head and there’s a flash of what looks like metal, and he can feel... “What’s that?”

“It’s called a sound,” the doctor says, and god, it’s-

“What’s...what is it?”

“It’s a stainless steel rod that is inserted into the urethra. Please try not to move so I don’t hurt you.” 

Oh fuck, the thing’s easing into his dick. The lube and the steel are cold, and Dean sucks in air. It feels fucking weird, something sliding into him. He’d had a tube up there in the hospital but thankfully doesn’t remember that going in or out; he supposes he was asleep or drugged up, but this is. It’s. He’s not sure he likes this. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels kind of _wrong._ It even looks wrong. Maybe he should have looked at that training list. Then again, maybe not. Maybe he wouldn't have come back from that early morning walk if he had.

“Intense, isn’t it?” the doctor says softly once the thing’s in, and Dean glances down at the rod sticking out of his cock; it looks so strange, like a shish kebab skewer. He nods, screwing his eyes shut again. 

“You’re slick, and the scent of your arousal is amazing.” He can feel his face heat at that. “...but I’d rather not sleep in a wet spot,” Dr. Novak says, and Dean can feel the plug going in. He guesses sex isn’t on the menu after all. 

The doctor starts fiddling with the rod, in and out, and it’s...it’s like his dick’s getting fucked. He keeps getting close and then plateauing, and then his nipples get some action, little strokes and flicks, and then the sound moves again and he can’t help pushing up with his hips to meet it. 

“No, don’t move. I don’t want you to come from this, Dean.”

He’s not sure if he _can_ come, if he’s honest. It’s too strange, even though he's on the edge. He looks up at Dr. Novak and he’s deep in concentration, focused on Dean’s cock, a palm pressed just above it so he can’t move at all, biting his lip. In, out. 

Dean watches the doctor, _Castiel, his name is Castiel, that’s a weird name._ , and the subtle flex of minute muscles in his forearms in the short-sleeved t-shirt he changed into after work. His arms are really nice. He looks strong, but he’s really gentle, this bed is so soft, and he’s drifting. 

When he comes back to himself, like waking up, he has Dr. Novak’s hand on the back of his neck and he’s holding a bottle of ice cold water to Dean’s lips. It’s good, and there’s an oatmeal cookie, which he dutifully eats, and sips more water, and then the pillow’s fluffed under his head. “Gonna get crumbs in the bed,” Dean mumbles. 

“It’s okay. It’s my bed, but you’re sleeping here tonight.”

He blinks. “Yeah.” He looks down and he’s wearing the chastity cage again, and of course he’s not tied down. “I didn’t…”

“No. I'm very pleased with you, and you reached subspace. You were very good.”

“Then I shoulda got, gotten to…” which is right? “Got to come.” He almost feels drunk. 

“Not tonight.”

“S’not fair,” Dean pouts, though in fact he feels fine. He feels great. It’s just the principle of the thing.

“You’re a submissive in training,” the doctor says, tucking himself into his side of the bed and drawing the sheet and light blanket over them both. The air conditioning is a little cold at night. “Sometimes it’s like that.”

“Gonna get blue balls,” he grumbles sleepily.

“You won’t. I promise,” says the doctor. 

“You’re gonna get blue balls,” Dean drawls, and Dr. Novak shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “Turn off the light now so I can sleep.”

“Ordering your dominant around now? Okay.” He's not mad though; there's that laugh again, it’s nice, it makes Dean smile, and the bedside light goes off. He says something so low he can barely hear it, “sweet like this,” maybe. 

“You should have sex with me, doc,” Dean says in the dark. “Two birds, one stone.”

An arm comes around him and pulls him back into warmth and solidity, and he’s held nice and snug, and there’s a deep breath in and a warm exhale at the nape of his neck, and that’s all he knows before he falls asleep for real.


	3. Chapter 3

He really should have tucked Dean into his own bed after the aftercare, Castiel thinks, but he feels a selfish lack of regret at the warm body tucked close as he awakes. His hand’s resting on a soft hip, the sub’s eyelashes flutter in sleep as the room slowly welcomes the dawn. He likes everything about Dean’s body; his incredible scent, the array of cinnamon freckles, the plush lips, the deep green rainforest eyes: always his favorite, his unusual height. He ponders on the fact that his brother’s obviously set to shoot up, based on his bone structure. His family must have some tall genes; Dean’s delayed presentation let him experience a growth spurt. It’s odd for omegas -- many would consider it a drawback -- but Castiel wouldn’t change a single thing about Dean Winchester. 

He probably shouldn’t be having these unbidden thoughts. Dean trusts him, which is a gift. He has to remain professional, here. 

Although...he’d realized already, as inexorably as the crawl of morning light across the bed, that it will be wrenching to say goodbye when the boy leaves. All he can do is dutifully fulfill the training requirements for which he’s responsible, keep him safe in the meantime, and wish him well when he inevitably packs his bags to move on.

He’d like to do nothing more than hold Dean this morning and relish this while he can ( _so selfish_ ) but work calls, as ever. He strokes his shoulder with a thumb and Dean twists and sighs, burrowing closer. 

Castiel will take a few more minutes, just until Dean wakes up on his own. 

Dean’s pissy for the next few days. He wakes up with his cock trying to get hard in the cage and he takes cold showers more than once a day to deal with it, until he finally reaches his breaking point and tries to use one of the dildos, his wrist bent awkwardly. It doesn’t work. He remembers Rhonda Hurley poking around when she’d gone down on him in her basement after sneaking him in, and it had felt pretty good, and the doctor’s fingers feel fucking awesome, but touching himself back there is nothing like that. 

There’s a knock at the door; the alpha’s ready to leave for work and wondering whether he wants a smoothie or if he should put the fruit away, and Dean lacks shame at that point, doesn’t even care that he’s buck ass naked, and out of pure frustration, he begs Dr. Novak to “please take it off me, please. I gotta come.” He is denied, but his doctor sucks in a breath and Dean finds himself walked backward to the bed and his legs pushed open, shaking apart, two fingers inside him hitting just right, then more of the synthetic slick and fuck, something deep in in his hole, something that vibrates, and he comes hard again and it just keeps going, and he comes again, and when he finally recovers (he thinks maybe he blacked out from _coming_ , how is it possible?) he’s stretched out over the doctor’s lap, one leg bent up with a hand in his hair, and Dean thinks he maybe drooled all over his crisp white work shirt. He freezes, and the hand moves to his shoulder blade.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Sorry. Oh shit, I’m really sorry,” Dean manages, sliding away quickly and half-covering himself with the sheet. What kind of sad sack omega does something like that? The guy’s not his fuckin’ boyfriend, for fuck’s sake. 

“No, no...you’re fine. In fact, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you were struggling so much, Dean.” Dr. Novak turns toward him, leaning up on the bed. “But that wasn’t entirely a clinical response, so I‘m sorry for that as well. It’s just...difficult for an alpha when an omega is in such sexual distress, not to...fix it. Your scent. I...”

Dean huffs, still embarrassed. He’d just been horny. He’d begged. “No big deal.”

“It is. And it was very appropriate for you to ask your alpha dominant for help.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be outta your hair pretty soon.”

“...right.” Dr. Novak’s cell goes off and he scrambles for it in his pocket. “Yes. Mmm, I know. No, I’m fine. Something came up.” His gaze flickers over Dean and he can feel his face heat. He never goddamn blushed before he presented, he’s pretty sure. “Tomorrow. Just move it. That would be great. Thanks.” He drops the phone on the bed and shakes his head with a small laugh. “The clinic. This is apparently the first time I’ve been late in five years.” 

“Damn. I’m really sorry,” Dean says again, and his alpha laughs, shaking his head.

“Please don’t apologize for that; it’s a rather sad reminder that I’m a workaholic, actually. So I’m taking the rest of the day off; clearly you require more attention,” the doctor says, sitting up. “Pull back the covers? I need to check something.”

Dean nods, and moving the sheet aside, Dr. Novak carefully lifts Dean’s caged cock. “You were leaking a bit before, which is normal, and this is a bit of prostatic fluid from your orgasms, that hasn’t stopped yet, but see? There’s much less ejaculate.”

“And that’s good?” Dean asks. He never had a ton of come before anyway.

“Perfect. I’m a bit worried about the amount of slick, though. Hopefully more frequent penetration and regular dilation will resolve that.”

“Uh. Yeah. Can you take this off now?” Dean says, pulling at the plastic chastity cage. “Don’t worry. I’m spent.”

“Of course.” He sits up. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll put it back on afterward. I’ll clean you inside too; that synthetic slick doesn’t feel very nice after a while. And then we can have breakfast. You can leave your clothing off for the rest of the day.” 

Dean wants to argue, but it’s not going to get him anywhere, he can tell. And he’s feeling pretty mellow now anyway. He’s never come so hard or so many times in his life. 

He hasn’t had an enema since he was in the clinic. He didn’t exactly enjoy that experience, but Dr. Novak does it differently, gesturing at a chaise in the big master bath, pulling down the shades and dimming the lights. “You need to get used to submitting to anal penetration when you’re not having a checkup or already desperate for release, so we’ll start with this. You’ll find it soothing, I think,” he says. “It’s an herbal solution and mineral oil, completely organic.” He puts a fidgety, anxious Dean on his back, uses a plug with a hole in it and threads a long tube through that all the way into his colon, which feels strange. he doesn’t make him hold it very long, but he lets his hands play along Dean’s open thighs and up to his chest, talking in a low voice about random stuff -- the parking situation at the clinic, the climate change thing they watched on the news earlier, what movies are coming out later this summer. He’s right, Dean thinks. He feels nice and relaxed after that. After he goes to the bathroom and the doctor uses the shower attachment in his hole and washes his junk and replaces the cage, and though he doesn’t like the thing, Dean remembers that the doctor could lock his ass up too, so he doesn’t bitch about it...much. 

Dean calls his dad’s phone a day later, but nobody picks up. He supposes he ditched that burner, but his father knows where he is and his number, anyhow. He’s probably tied up on a hunt and he doesn’t expect Dean to be ready to go yet. Still, it would be nice to hear from him, or from Sammy. 

He feels guilty for not thinking about them more often. He tells himself that this training is hard, but…

It’s not that hard.

So...he keeps...keeping busy. During the day, Dean reads, or swims, or watches Netflix, which you can apparently watch on a big-screen TV when it has a smart function and isn’t a 20-year-old rabbit-ears motel job. 

There’s a treadmill and one of those fancy Peloton bikes from the bad commercials, and free weights in the home gym, so he gets into those, too. The vibrator’s amazing, so he gets himself off whenever, and he stops needing the fake slick, because his ass is downright juicy now when he’s turned on. He’s not too interested in the gaming rig by himself, but figures it out and tries some pirate quest game, which is fun. 

He maybe shouldn’t look through them, but there’s a stack of photo albums on one of the bookshelves, and Dean can’t help himself. The one on top has what look like vacation pics, and hardly any people, but some of the doctor standing in front of various landmarks, so somebody must have taken the photos, and probably not a stranger, the way he looks at the camera. The second album has some of those too, but a little folder like they give you for senior pictures tucked in it, proofs, Dean remember they’re called, though he just got the free pic from school and never bothered buying a yearbook. Inside, there’s a picture of a slightly younger Dr. Novak and some really fucking hot guy with dark hair. In some of the photos they’re facing each other, in some, the doctor’s standing behind the man in an embrace. There are some where they’re both dressed up - the guy in a suit and the doctor in a shirt, tie, and vest. And then there are a few with the man in omega clothes, and Dean’s mouth falls open; he can’t miss the way their hands are positioned, to show off the omega’s engagement ring. They look happy enough. There are also a couple of loose pictures in the folder that aren’t professional ones, but the guy’s in them in a casual shirt and khakis, and he’s...he’s got his hands over a slightly bulging belly.

The doctor was...engaged, or married? To an omega, who was carrying his baby? Dean doesn’t know if he’s divorced, but he’s never mentioned a kid, and he definitely doesn’t have a mating mark. He turns over one of the pictures, and there’s a date six years ago and a name: Michael. 

He and Dr. Novak eat dinner when he gets home from the clinic and sit out on the patio and talk afterward. Dean’s dying to ask about the guy in the pictures, but he knows he probably shouldn’t. One, he’d been snooping, and two, what if something tragic happened to...Michael, and their baby? 

“You seem preoccupied. Is there something on your mind?” the doctor asks, and Dean shakes his head.

“Nope.” 

After dinner, they watch a movie. Twice this week, Dean falls asleep on the sofa and is nudged gently awake and led to his room. Once, he could have sworn that there had been gentle fingers carding through his hair before that. 

They plan to go out for dessert one evening after dinner and a swim, and Dr. Novak blinks at him when Dean comes out dressed in one of the omega top and skirt sets. It’s still like 90 degrees out there. 

“You look lovely, Dean. Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Dean clears his throat. He’s not _lovely_. He can turn heads sometimes, he knows. He can get girls. And guys, he guesses. But he’s too tall for an omega. Too many muscles. Not submissive enough. 

Maybe he should just change.

“Are you wearing a plug and harness under that?”

Dean colors. “No.” Having something up his ass...it’s distracting. 

“The reason I bring it up is that you’re producing a bit of slick now…”

Dean goes even redder. Jesus. He can probably smell it across the room. What had Charlie told him? That the alpha had some kind of freaky scent Spidey sense, like a supertaster?

“...and I don’t want you to feel self-conscious if you become aroused in public.” Dr. Novak tilts his head. “The plug will make sure you don’t ruin that nice green skirt.”

“Uh...”

“Do you need me to help you put it on? The harness will ensure it stays put. You don’t have to wear it with the plug right now, but until you’re used to being plugged outside the house, it’s an option.” 

Dean imagines slick running down his thighs while he talks to the cute cashier at the ice cream place. “No, I can, um...I’ll do it myself.” He goes to his room and takes the plug and harness out of the drawer they’re in, and attaches the items, then carefully eases the plug in before straightening out his skirt and heading back into the living room. At least it’s better than the hated dilator dildos. Once he has a plug inside, he can barely feel it, except for the harness, which doesn’t feel so good on the sides of his balls, but since omegas don’t usually have ‘em, he’s just gonna have to deal.

“Okay, I’m good. Let’s go.”

The doctor nods. “Great.”

They go to the Dreamery Creamery. It’s fancy; one of those hipster “artisan” places Dean wouldn’t have even walked into with his dad, and the double cones and sundaes are like six bucks. The hot cashier doesn’t even blink at Dean in his skirt and top, and if anything, she flirts more aggressively than usual when the doctor heads into the bathroom and Dean’s dithering over flavors. He knows he’s going to get the pecan chocolate marble as usual, but hey. 

When he gets up to get more napkins, she says, “Hey, wait,” and when he walks back to their table he sees she’s written her number on the back of a receipt, and her name. Lisa. He looks up from the table and she winks at him.

“Huh,” Dean says. On the way home, he tells Dr. Novak, and he purses his lips. 

“Ah. She’s an alpha, so…”

“Oh. Oh!” Dean blinks. He knows sometimes, but he still can’t scent anyone, so he’d missed that. “I thought she was going to ask me out right then.” Dean would ask _her_ out, maybe, but he’s not sure what’s going on with his heat and he’s not going to mess around until he’s on the blockers and stuff. 

“She’s aware that I am an alpha,” the doctor says. “And is probably unsure whether you’re my partner.”

“She probably thinks you’re my _dad_ ,” Dean quips. It’s a mean thing to say, he realizes. The doctor’s probably about 30 or so.

Dr. Novak smiles after a moment. “Maybe so.”

The doctor’s out on the patio talking to someone on the phone, and Dean shouldn’t look, but he can’t help that he learned to read lips to help his father on hunts. He’s saying something about Dean: “I can’t tell him yet.” and “I’m concerned about how he’ll take it.” Dr. Novak looks worried, and sad.

Fuck. Dean hopes he doesn’t have, like...a disease or something. He should just ask, but a part of him is afraid to find out.

The other part wins.

He’s not supposed to, but the next day when the doctor’s at work and Pam’s done cleaning, Dean picks the lock on the door in the hall. It’s Dr. Novak’s office. Dean pokes through file cabinets looking for W-Winchester or D for Dean, but doesn’t find anything. He checks the desk and wants to smack himself, because there’s a folder right on top with his name on it. All that’s in there is the wordy legalese bullshit alpha of record transfer he’d glanced at in the clinic, so he sighs and puts it back where he found it, making sure to hide any evidence before locking the door behind him. If he’s terminal, it ain’t written down. Or it’s at the office in the clinic. Maybe he’s just infertile after all. He doesn’t care about that, anyway. He already knows he’s a broken, sad sack, poor excuse for an omega. And in a few weeks, he won’t be one anymore anyway.

Castiel Novak is used to his house smelling clean, with a tinge of his own alpha aura, but now he has to take a moment when he walks in at the end of the day to calm himself once the fresh scent of hewn cedar and leather and Dean Winchester punches him in the face. 

Even Michael’s scent hadn’t done that, and he’d thought... He shakes his head at the memory. It’s been years, but it still hurts.

He is _not_ some knothead whose tongue rolls out like a famished dog in a cartoon butcher shop whenever he gets a whiff of unmated omega. He’s around omegas all day long, every day. It’s his life’s work and most omegas do smell very pleasant to alphas. Being a scent-sensitive alpha is quite helpful as a physician when it comes to sensing worry or an omega putting up with pain because he or she is trying not to be a bother. He likes to compare it to being a chef who can tell when a handful of herbs is just slightly off. 

Except Dean’s scent is...it’s more. It’s more than pleasant, or more than sharp when he’s distressed. 

He smells like mate.

Castiel knows it’s vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, oxytocin. He has to touch the omega, after all. It’s just chemistry and biology. It’s Dean’s presence in his home, his sanctuary, even though Charlie and Balthazar and other omega friends and colleagues have spent time there. Hannah stayed over for a week when her last roommate left her the gift of bedbugs. Garth and his mate have even borrowed the heat room. Their familiar omega scents are friendly and warm, but they never result in something like Castiel jacking off in the middle of the night when he makes the mistake of going into the kitchen for a glass of water and picking up Dean’s aroma on the towel he used to dry the dishes earlier.

Oh god, Castiel is a sap, a fool.

He’d expected the boy to be grumpy and resentful and to retreat to his room most of the time; he’d been unceremoniously dumped by his family; even his own cold clan wouldn’t do that, especially not a vulnerable omega, but Dean is smart and funny and sweet and thoughtful and genuinely appreciates a milkshake or a convenience store muscle car magazine as much as mulberry silk omega clothes and cashmere socks. 

(Oh, Charlie had raised an eyebrow so high when he’d told her explicitly where to shop and sworn her not to divulge the cost, but he couldn’t resist.)

A young man who gamely and bravely puts up with what he has to to make it through his first and last heat deserves the best. 

“I have a shift at the state omega facility on Tuesdays,” Dr. Novak tells Dean when he’s surprised to find his office door open when he’s on the way to wash up. He doesn’t seem mad, so Dean’s sure he didn’t catch on that he’d been in there. 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Would you like to come with me? You don’t get a lot of interaction with other omegas, except for Charlie, and she sticks you with hypodermics and has you get on a scale. It might be fun for you.”

Fun? The state facility, where they put the underage omegas nobody wants, where they treat them like cattle? Everybody’s heard stories about that place, and Dean’s seen the cluster of brick buildings it from a distance on the highway. There’s a barbed wire-topped fence surrounding the place and a fuckin’ guard shack at the gate. 

“Are....are you gonna leave me there?” 

“What?” Blue eyes snap to his, and the look he gets at that is incredulous, and maybe...hurt? “Of course not. I know you’re not enjoying counting the days until your first heat, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Dean.” 

“Oh. Um.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You’re not so bad.” 

Dr. Novak looks unsure whether or not to take that as a compliment. “Alright. We’ll be there for two or three hours, then I need to stop by the clinic, and then I thought perhaps we could go out for a late lunch.”

As much as Dean is freaked out by the thought of the state omega dumping ground, he’s curious. And he also has cabin fever. “Okay. Yeah. I wanna go.”

“You’ll need to wear omega clothing.”

Dean nods, steps back into the hallway, and gestures vaguely down the hall. “I, uh. I’ll go take a shower and stuff then.”

“Very good. We don’t have time for your temperature check this morning, so I’ll handle it at my clinic. Be ready to leave by 8:30.” 

Dean’s wearing the black leather hiking boots he picked out at the mall the other night. They’re not too different in style than his usual cheap work boots, but the insoles are padded and the black socks the doctor bought him are new and soft. He checks under Dean’s green skirt and straightens one of the leather straps attached to his plug before patting a bare cheek. “Very nice.” 

Then he shows Dean a black leather collar. “What’s that for?”

“You’ll need to wear it in the facility today. It indicates that you’re not a resident there and have an Alpha of Record.” Dean swallows nervously and nods, and the doctor puts it around his neck, adjusts it and clicks it shut, then holds up his smart watch and Dean hears a beep. 

“This isn’t gonna explode my head if I run, right?” 

Dr. Novak squints at him. “Like the Erie Pizza Bomber? No. This is for your safety. You can press the button on the side to call my phone. It also has a locator-”

“Okay, very literal true crime guy. No, like the President in Escape From New York. C’mon. Snake Plissken?” The doctor looks baffled. “No?” Dude. We’re gonna have to watch that.”

“It sounds violent.”

Dean shakes his head. “No more violent than that documentary about the Erie Pizza Bomber.” 

“I suppose that’s true. Come on, let’s go.”

He feels tense as they get closer to the state place on the highway. There’s a little red compact car in front of them that takes the same exit, and Dr. Novak’s clearly annoyed by the volume of the rap music bumping its speakers at a stoplight. The sound fades long before the car stops in front of the guard shack, and he watches as the guard checks four IDs from the occupants. Probably more guards.

They end up parking near the red car, and Dean watches as four teenagers, three girls and a guy all in omega clothes, get out with Starbuck cups and a bag, laughing and joking, just like kids at North High.

“They live here?” Dean blurts out quietly as he and the doctor follow them to a side door. “They can leave?” 

“How else are they going to get their frappucinos? Starbucks, to my knowledge, doesn’t deliver.” Dr. Novak raises an eyebrow at him. He also stops in a locker-lined hallway and puts his hands on Dean’s waist. “Another thing; everyone on staff here is an omega -- they’re dressed in black -- or alpha, and they’re usually in street clothes. If you don’t know someone’s name, just use Omega or Alpha to address the staff, or sir or ma’am. Omegas are expected to show respect for alphas here, and if you don’t, I’ll hear about it. Got it?”

Dean nods. Over the doctor’s shoulder, he sees two of the omegas - the guy and one of the girls from the red car - taking off their clothes and stowing them in lockers. Both have on belts with plugs, but the guy isn’t wearing a chastity cage. One of the other girls, still in omega clothes, joins them and they head down the hall. He can’t miss that the naked omegas have pink asses. So they do get paddled here. His lip curls up. Ugh.

“I’m heading to the clinic.” Dr. Novak points to a sign on the wall with arrows: clinic, cafeteria, library, classrooms, training, dormitories. “Feel free to have a look around. Oh! You didn’t get breakfast. There are snacks in the cafeteria. Not Starbucks, though. Pastries and juice and things.” He smiles at Dean.

“I...okay. I don’t have any money with me, though.”

“You also don’t have any pockets.” 

Dean opens his mouth and closes it. “I. Yeah.”

The doctor brushes Dean’s shoulder with his fingertips. “They probably won’t charge you, but they can scan your collar and put it on my staff account. Meet me in the clinic in an hour and a half or so?” 

“I don’t have a watch, either.”

“Well, there are clocks everywhere.”

Dean watches him leave and glances around curiously. He follows the arrows and on the way to the library finds a little store. They have notebooks and pens and things like (unscented) lotion and lip balm, and a small selection of omega clothes and accessories. Dean flips through some of the sets and though he’s not any kind of a fashion expert, he can tell they’re not anywhere as nice as what he’s wearing. He supposes Dr. Novak can just donate them later. Or he’ll give them to the next charity case he trains. Maybe. 

He wanders into the library, where an alpha on staff is manning the checkout desk. Dean nods to her politely and she smiles. He roams the stacks and it’s just a typical library like at North, with computers and study desks, but with a big chunk of the health section full of stuff on orientation and sexuality. He doesn’t think his last school had any of that, not that he spent a lot of time in the library. He passes a nude omega, a student helper, maybe, shelving books. She turns and Dean sees her ass is striped a bright red. So maybe working in the library’s a punishment too. Or not? He’s not gonna ask. 

He makes his way out and back down the hall. It’s not fancy here, but although the building is older, it’s very clean, and everything is freshly painted. There are classrooms down here, and Dean glances around before peeking through a window in one of the doors. There’s an omega teacher with red hair in a black skirt and top underlining something on the whiteboard and talking to the class. There’s also an omega with her pink skirt flipped up on all fours facing the corner of the room in present. What the...fuck. 

Someone brushes past him and opens the door, calling out to the teacher. “Omega MacLeod.” Dean backs away to the other side of the hall and tries to look like he’s super into the jazz band tryout and blood drive flyers on the adjacent bulletin board to seem like he has some kind of purpose, but he’s still close enough to hear the teacher sigh dramatically. “Finally, Sassy! This is the second disruption this week and it’s only just Tuesday, and I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with her the way she needs. I’m trying to focus a room full of fidgety students on As You Like It.” 

“Understood, Rowena.” The alpha goes to the omega in the corner and has her rise. “Ruby, with me. Come along. Now.”

The dark-haired girl looks sullen as she’s steered out of the classroom by the elbow and down the hallway toward the cafeteria. Dean was heading there anyway, so he follows slowly. He gets a tray and a cinnamon roll and a bottle of water, and yep, they don’t charge him. It’s not a huge cafeteria and he’s the only person there except for an omega with a textbook taking notes with headphones in and some guy in line. He can’t help but hear the conversation at the side of the room. 

“Alpha, it wasn’t my fault, I was just-”

“Save it, Ruby. Really. This is getting ridiculous. Twice this week, four demerits already this month.”

The voices lower for a minute except for Ruby protesting “Fuck you, Ketch! It’s not fucking fair!” and Dean watches as the alpha dominant opens a door and switches a light on; there’s a huge window into a room with a bench with cuffs attached, and Ruby’s obviously been told to take off her clothes. She looks defiant as she does, and as she’s cuffed facedown to the bench. The alpha slips off his black dress shoes and removes his belt and then his grey pants, and fuck, his cock’s huge, and ragingly erect. Dean’s mouth is hanging open as Alpha Ketch selects one of the paddles on the back wall and starts disciplining the omega, smacking her on the backside, while she’s gritting her teeth. After a...lot of paddling (Dean loses count,) the alpha goes to town with the belt on her thighs and sit spot, and he can finally hear a faint wail through the glass. 

He winces in sympathy, and a voice next to him says, “Don’t feel sorry for her. She’s a bitch.” 

Dean starts, and notices he’s been joined at the table by another omega. The guy’s nude, but Dean’s kind of getting used to it. He nods. “I’m Aaron. Haven’t seen you around before. Your family checking the place out? You going to go here? Are there raisins in that?”

He shakes his head, not sure which to answer first, and Aaron sticks his hand out. Dean shakes it. “Dean, and um, no. My alpha’s a doctor seeing some patients here...I guess he does it every week? I’m just, you know.” He gestures at his half-eaten cinnamon roll. “Yeah. Raisins.”

“Cain or Novak?” 

“Novak.” 

Aaron leans back on the cafeteria bench. “Oh my god, he’s your _alpha_? He’s so _hot_.” 

Dean can’t help laughing. Dr. Novak is a nerd, but he’s definitely really, really hot. “I guess he is.”

“Ugh, so are you. Are you guys getting mated or what?”

“Oh,” Dean swallows a sip of juice. “We’re not. Well. No, it’s a long story. I presented late, and he’s my Alpha of Record, uh, temporarily, until my first heat.”

“No alphas in your family?”

“My dad, but he had to leave the state right away. His job. He’s a bounty hunter, so-”

“This backstory is not making you any less interesting.”

Dean feels himself blush. “Uh…”

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Aaron continues, running a hand through his hair and looking sheepish. “I just haven’t hit on anybody in so long I’m out of practice. Like, the ratio of men to women here is really, really bad, and I’m on team testosterone.”

“There are male alphas, though.” Dean inclines his head to the window, where Alpha Ketch is pulling his now-soft-but-still-massive cock out of a sobbing submissive. He thinks Ruby’s sobbing looks kind of...obviously put on. Her face isn’t even damp. Huh. He wonders if the chick gets “demerits” mostly when he’s the dom on duty. 

“Oh, staff though. It’s not the same. That guy’s a conceited dick. Plus, he’s mated to Omega Davies, he’s an administrator here. I can’t say I haven’t gotten off to the thought of those two, though. Many, many times. Ketch is hung like a friggin’ horse.”

Aaron’s a shameless perv with no filter. Dean likes him instantly. 

The other omega waggles his brows. “But why would you need to fantasize, with the alpha you have at home?” 

“We don’t, I mean...he doesn’t. He-”

“He doesn’t get you off? He’s that strict?”

“Um,” Dean’s not sure why he’s telling Aaron all this, they just met, but who else can he tell, really? “No? He does, but he doesn’t, you know, there’s no fucking. It’s not like that. He wouldn’t want to with somebody like me. He’s like my doctor.”

Aaron looks grim. “God _damn_.” 

“Did I ruin your spank bank material?”

“Am I that transparent?” Aaron facepalms.

“Yeah, kinda.”

He nudges Dean’s side. “Well, if you ever feel like a blowjob or anything...I can give you my number.”

Dean’s face goes red, and he loses the power of speech for a moment. “Well. Thanks. I guess.”

“I know I’m being forward, but I really don’t care.”

“I can see that. I-” Dean doesn’t know why he does it, but fuck it. He lifts his omega skirt. “Can’t take you up on that, though.” 

“Oh shit. Chastity. That sucks.” 

“Yeah.”

“You haven’t been castrated yet?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, thank god.”

“It’s only sore for a couple of days afterward. I presented a little late too, when I was 15, and had it done a few months later.” He puts a leg over the side of the bench and leans back, holding up his small dick and showing Dean the smooth skin underneath, completely without shame. There’s a barely-there faint pink line of healed scarring. “It’s really sensitive here, in a good way. Like, when I’m getting my hole used in training and get a reach-around, because you know how an alpha expects you to come on their cock and won’t touch yours? This is almost as good.”

“You still,” Dean bites his lip. Aaron’s been talking about sex since they sat down and a hot girl, bitch or not, got railed right in front of them and looked like she secretly enjoyed it, but he’s soft, while’s Dean’s cocklet has been pressing against its transparent prison since he got here. There are just too many naked people. “...get hard? Like, can you still jack off?” 

“Yeah, it just takes more time, but c’mon, omega g-spot’s past the prostate. It’s just so much better in the ass.” Aaron narrows his eyes. “Does he have you in anal chastity too?”

“No.”

Aaron brightens. “Well then.” 

Dean glances at the clock. “I got ten minutes to get to the clinic and meet Dr. Novak.” 

“I’ll show you where it is. And say hi to your alpha. It’s only polite.” 

“Yeah, you’re a regular Miss Manners,” Dean says, draining the last of his water and gathering his and Aaron’s bottles for recycling. He inclines his head to the room where Alpha Ketch is rubbing something into Ruby’s crack. “What is that, lotion?”

“Vicks,” Aaron says. “Burns like hell for about 15 minutes after a rough fuck. So I’m told. I’m a model omega.” He grins. 

“Damn. What did she do?”

“Who knows, this time? Cheating on another test? Stealing another omega’s stuff again? She’s kind of a piece of work.” He waggles his fingers at Ruby, she makes a face and flips him off with her closest cuffed hand, and Aaron bows. They head towards the clinic. “She swapped out my roommate Victor’s Ritalin with children’s aspirin and sold it to some freshmen once. She’s evil.”

“Why don’t they expel her, or whatever they do here?”

Aaron shrugs. “She’s on restriction all the time now and can’t leave the campus. Plus she’s under 21; where’s she gonna go? Juvie with a bunch of alphas? That’s not safe. I mean, she deserves every punishment she gets, but not that. Maybe she’ll shape up eventually. Or she’ll get a permanent alpha dom that likes taming brats. Some of ‘em do.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Maybe.” 

“You’re not like that, are you?”

“What, a felon?”

Aaron laughs. “No, a brat. You’re one of those very obedient subs, aren’t you?”

Dean looks at him with consternation. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“I can usually tell. And if that makes you defensive, you probably need more training.”

“I’ve been a sub for a whole three weeks, dude.”

“Okay.” Aaron rolls his eyes.

“Why are you in here?” He regrets the words as soon as they fall out of his mouth. Guy’s probably an orphan or a foster kid. “Sorry, I mean…”

“My folks travel for work too; they’re historical researchers and they hit up digs in the Middle East and appear at a bunch of academic conferences. Since I presented I’d stay once in a while since my dad taught here for a semester, but dipping in and out was screwing up my curriculum, and they let me do independent study, so...I told them I’d rather just hang out here.”

“You don’t hate it? Alphas up in your business and getting smacked around?”

He snorts. “I’ve been in a private school and it was so much worse. 2:1 faculty to student ratio sounds good to rich parents but it basically means you can’t get away with anything. Plus, you know, these ‘exclusive omega preparatory academies’ don’t even have AP-level material. They’re really preparing omegas to be marriage material for CEOs and diplomats and shit. They had gourmet cooking and flower-arranging classes.” Aaron makes a gagging sound. 

“Cooking’s cool, though,” Dean ventures. 

“I take it back. _You’re_ the model omega.”

They’re at the clinic door, and Aaron opens it for him. Dr. Novak’s leaning on a counter and chatting with the nurse or receptionist or whatever, who looks young enough to be a...student or whatever they call the omegas here. He’s laughing in a way that Dean has rarely seen, completely relaxed. He’s not sure why that pisses him off a little, but it does. She’s in omega black scrubs, and her name tag reads Hannah Smith.

“Dean.” The doctor’s smile warms him to his toes. “And Omega Bass. Are you here to see me again? How’s that sore throat? Three in one season is a lot.”

“Oh. Better. I just met Dean here.”

“Did you give him a tour?”

“I walked around some,” Dean says. “Saw the library and got breakfast.” He mentions seeing some classes in session while Aaron asks the receptionist (nurse?) for some paper and a pen.

“Well, I have a free period on Tuesdays, so...y’know, hit me up if you come back with your alpha. We have to keep our phones in the dorm rooms or lockers during the day, so let me know ahead of time.” Aaron passes his number over.

“Awesome.” 

Aaron nudges Dean’s shoulder, and he nudges back. 

“Cool.”

Dr. Novak clears his throat. “Don’t you have sexual training after your free period? I believe you’ve mentioned that before.”

“Yes, Alpha Novak.” Aaron looks at Dean. “Oral today. Advanced.”

“Oh,” Dean smirks. “Later, man.”

“Seeya.”

After Aaron leaves, Dr. Novak gestures for Dean to follow him down the hall and opens the door to a generic-looking exam room.

“Clothing off and up on the table, Dean.”

“For what?”

“Temperature check.”

Dean hesitates. “I thought that was gonna be at your clinic.” 

“I didn’t have a backlog of patients here. You need it done now.”

“Okay.” Bossy dom’s back, he supposes. Dean sighs and strips, including his boots and socks as he’s told, and gets on the table. It’s different than the other clinic; he’s almost sitting up, and when Dr. Novak has him spread out with his thighs held up in the weird stirrups, Dean notices that the door to the exam room is wide open.

“Door’s open.”

“I’m aware,” the doctor says. “It’s policy here.” Dean supposes that the little clinic isn’t busy today anyway and if Omega Hannah at the front desk can listen, she hears what she hears.

There’s a petty little part of him that likes that. He’s not another patient here for whatever. He’s _Alpha Novak’s omega._

The thermometer slides in easily, Dean’s so wet that even the finger alongside it doesn’t bother him, but he squirms a bit. “Something wrong?” Dr. Novak asks. “I can tell this doesn’t hurt today,” he adds, sounding almost amused. Figures Dean would get turned on being around a bunch of other omegas. Classic, really. He’s so bad at being...this.

“My uh,” Dean swallows. “The cage hurts.” A click and the chastity device is removed, and Dean lets out a breath. He’s fully hard instantly; he’d been trying to get there despite the hard plastic for what feels like hours, and he knows the doctor’s not going to do anything about it, but it’s a relief. “Thanks.” 

He opens his eyes a moment later at the sound of another voice. “Dr. Cain,” Dr. Novak says. 

“Castiel.” The other doctor Dean remembers from the clinic nods at him and he steps closer, looking at what’s going on between his thighs. “Omega. Dean isn’t it?”

“Hi. Yes. Alpha, uh, Dr. Cain,” Dean says politely. He supposes it doesn’t matter that the guy sees him like this; he’s had his fingers up his ass before anyway. Plus Dean’s seen Dr. Novak venting about him on the phone on the patio. It was particularly interesting that he thinks Dean should be paddled and has been giving his alpha shit about it. Well, fuck this guy, but he’s also a senior boss at the clinic or whatever, so he figures he’d better be _respectful_ for Dr. Novak’s sake.

“He’s coming along well?” Dr. Cain says, pulling on gloves from a dispenser next to the exam table, and Dr. Novak nods. “Having issues with excessive genital arousal?”

“It’ll go down. I just removed his chastity temporarily.”

Dr. Cain reaches out and pinches the base of Dean’s small cock a shade too hard, and he cringes. “Yes. The cages aren’t terribly comfortable, as you know.” He lets go and eyes Dean’s chest. “Perky. I had lunch with a rep from Roman Pharmaceuticals last week, you remember Hester; she said Desensurex has passed FDA clinical trials for male omegas.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Novak says. “Yes, I’d read something about that.” He takes out the heat thermometer and checks the reading, then removes the plastic sleeve on it and throws it away. Dean knows he’s dripping on the table. It’s embarrassing, but so is everything.

“Just a localized injection every six weeks, a bit like botox, and it’ll numb the area nicely,” The other doctor picks up Dean’s flagging cock again and slides two fingers into his ass without ceremony. “Goodness, he’s certainly slick enough, but the anus is still so tight. You must relax your hole when you’re examined, Dean.” Dr. Novak looks a little annoyed. “As you know by now, submissive omegas must learn to rely on stimulation of the channel by the dominant, you see, in order to properly accept their more passive role. Just like this.”

He bucks his hips a little when Dr. Cain presses on his prostate and then his omega gland. “Right,” Dean says faintly, and yeah, he knows that. He’s not gonna narc on his alpha, who now has a possessive hand curled gently around the back on one of Dean’s ankles, for giving him free range dildo access. 

“Would you like that, omega? It may help you adjust more easily until your castration. A little shot in the very tip of your penis, and you wouldn’t have to wear a chastity device any longer. Its effects are just temporary, until you learn.” Dr. Cain turns to Dean’s alpha. “The issues with male treatment have mostly been resolved. There are some minor problems with incontinence the first few days after injection, but that’s easily handled with a diaper.” 

Dean can feel his face heat and opens his mouth, but a look from Dr. Novak makes him bite back what he wants to say, which is ‘fuck right the fuck off with that bullshit, fucker’. 

“Injections aren’t appropriate for Dean,” he says. “I’m actually not convinced drugs are a good solution overall.”

“As I’d assume,” Dr. Cain takes his fingers out of Dean’s ass, pulls off his gloves and puts them in a bin, looking amused. “You and your disdain for chemicals.”

“Yes, I’m quite the organic product-loving hippie,” Dr. Novak says dryly, and Dean manages a small smile, because he really is weird about those. Pamela’s house cleaning solutions are all unscented natural eco stuff and vinegar and he’s heard her bitch about it once or twice.

“Indeed you are.” Dr. Cain pats him on the back. “At any rate, a chastity cage does keep his testes out of the way for anal training. Speaking of organics, my mate has some freshly harvested honey for you. There are two jars on your desk at our clinic.”

“We’re heading there next.”

“I can make honey custard pie,” Dean blurts out. “Um. Doctor.” 

Dr. Cain tilts his head, looking surprised. “That sounds fantastic.” 

“Maybe I can make an extra one, and Dr. Novak can take it to work.”

“You were very good today,” Dr. Novak says when Cain leaves and he dabs Dean with a wet wipe before putting in the plug with its harness. “I know you’re not accustomed to being handled by other alphas. I should have told him to back off.”

“Yeah, well, I know he’s sorta your boss, so...” Dean sits up with a groan, hard again after his own doctor’s gentle touches. “He wants to put me in a friggin’ _diaper_.”

Dr. Novak gives him a look. “That’s what bothered you about that? Not the idea of a hypodermic in the dick?”

“That too! But as fars as drugs go, I got shots for the...the lactation,” Dean says. 

“Those are natural hormones. And we will not be using Desen. But you did impress him. And me. I had no idea you could be such a little suckup.” He lowers his voice. “I can make _piiiiie_ , Alpha.” Dr. Novak grins. 

“Was it obvious?” He gets a genuine laugh. “I mean-”

“You’re very good for me, but I can tell the difference, Dean.” 

“I really can make pie, though. Seriously, I like cooking for you, but I love baking. Especially pie. It’s my kryptonite.” 

“Does that mean you like it, or?” His doctor looks a little unsure. 

“Means it’s my ultimate weakness. Love good old apple or cherry pie. Fuck cake.” 

“Hmm.” Dr. Novak cocks a hip against the exam table. “That’s...good.” He bites his lip. “So…I’ll just put your chastity back on and we can go.”

Dean nods. “Soon as I can get my dick to behave.” He’s still hard. If they were at home, Dean thinks his alpha might get him off, or at least let him get his toys, but maybe not here.

“Well...I need a urine sample, too.” The doctor opens a drawer and produces one of those little plastic cups with a lid. “If you would, there’s a bathroom down the hall. You can get dressed when you come back.”

“You’re not gonna hold it for me?” Dean eyes him, joking. Sort of.

“No, and…” he checks his watch and glances at Dean. “We do need to get on the road soon. Dr. Cain, or most of the staff here, would ice down that excessive genital arousal you have there.”

Dean sighs, resigned. 

“But it’s a bit of a hassle, and the freezer’s in the break room, and I need to sign off on a few prescription fills. I’m sure it’ll go down by the time you get to the bathroom, or after say, five minutes, don’t you think?”

Dean nods quickly, taking the offered container and covering his dick with his hand as he heads for the hall. “Yes. Yes I do. I think it will.”

In the one-toilet bathroom, which thankfully has a door and a lock, Dean strips his dick in record time, head thrown back, thighs shaking. And maybe Aaron’s right about how amazing it feels when his alpha gets him off through his ass, but this still feels pretty fucking good. He starts by thinking about the omega’s offer, Dean’s hand in a shock of dark hair, the other boy on his knees sucking him off, but that image flips quick, to Lisa’s brown eyes, and then vivid stormy blue, and then Dean’s on his knees looking up and...fuck.

He’s still flushed when he gingerly hands the sample jar back to Dr. Novak in the exam room. “It’s warm. Gross.”

The doctor wraps a paper towel around the container and tosses it in the medical waste bin, and Dean blinks at him as he bends to put on his chastity cage. “Thought you needed that for tests.”

“Well, as you said, it’s warm and gross, so you’re obviously alive. Guess you pass.” He winks. “Get dressed so we can go.”

There’s a rush of activity as Dr. Novak drops his prescriptions off with the omega at the front desk, as the redheaded teacher from earlier and a student rush in with someone between them. She’s panting and shaking. 

“Ah, unexpected heat?”

“Yes, poppet was slumped over in a stall in the loo, poor dear,” Omega MacLeod coos. “It’ll be fine soon, sweetheart.”

“Her name?” Hannah asks. 

“Alex something,” the other teenage omega says. “She’s new. Got here a week ago, I think.”

“Alex,” Hannah searches in her computer. “Ah. Yep. I’ll call her alpha. Jody...Mills.” 

“I know Sheriff Mills,” Dean says, to no one, really. The girl’s crying by now. He feels like he should help or...something.

Hannah addresses the other student. “Can you go to Alpha Ketch and have him open her locker and bring her phone? Alex will be here the rest of the day and I’m sure she’ll want something to do.” 

“Yes, Omega.” She dashes off and Dr. Novak takes the girl’s other side.

“Feel free to get back to your class, Rowena,” he says. “Help me get her to the heat room, Dean.” 

“Sure.” Dean’s happy to have something to do besides stand there like an idiot. The girl’s feverish and clammy and whimpering, and he feels so sorry for her. “Is it your first uh, heat?” he asks. It’s nosy, but what else is he gonna ask about, her favorite bands? Alex shakes her head and once she’s led to the bed next to a breeding bench, she curls up with an arm around her waist, crying. 

“I want...I need…” 

Omega Hannah talks to Dr. Novak. “Shouldn’t have happened, but she’s off heat blockers because of a conflicting medication, and this is a month early. Her alpha’s a foster parent but she’s out of pocket and can’t get away from work for a while.” She bends down to talk to the girl. “Alex, you need a knot. I know you’re new, but...do you know who you…” Alex shakes her head. “Um, there’s Alpha Cain, you saw him at intake, there’s…” Alicia’s eyes skip over Dean and Dr. Novak in the doorway. “There’s Alpha Ketch. I would recommend him. Personally.” 

“Yeah?” Alex shudders on the blue-sheeted mattress, hands pressing between her legs.

“Yes,” Hannah says forcefully. “Trust me on this one. Oh, and here he is!” She nods and gestures to Ketch and he nods back, drops the smartphone he’s holding on a counter, and starts stripping fast; barely a blink and the alpha is tucked behind Alex on the small bed, brushing back her hair and sliding a hand down her hip. She arches her back and sighs.

If the omega hadn’t engineered things to get that particular alpha into the clinic in time for this, Dean thinks to himself, he’ll eat his collar.

“Hello, sweet girl,” he says softly, dropping a kiss to her neck. “I will take very good care of you.” Ketch looks up. “Water and fruit for after, please, Hannah. And towels. She’s on birth control, I would assume?” 

“Yep. I’ll just get-”

Omega Hannah rushes out of the room and Dean goes into the hallway away from the open door and leans against the wall. He doesn’t want to see a stranger get pounded into the mattress, and that Ketch guy seems kind of full of himself, but he’s also pretty sure she’s gonna be okay. He can tell his alpha thinks so too; he’s stroking Dean’s back like he can tell he’s worried about this stranger. Kind of puts his mind at ease.

He hadn’t realized he’d feel solidarity with another omega just because of what he is now. It’s...interesting. Like he’s part of a club now. A weird, leaky club, sure, but he’s never felt that way before.

“Shall we go?” Dr. Novak asks after a moment, jingling his keys. 

“Yeah.” Dean looks up. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The drive to the regular clinic is quiet, but the doctor lets Dean futz with the stereo after a few minutes. He has one of those digital services, and he quickly locates a classic rock channel..

“Huh. There are quite a lot of options. I’ve never used it before.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Charlie’s out doing house calls, and I have a few rounds to make. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Dr. Novak checks his watch. “But Balthazar’s in his office. I told him you might stop by around this time. He’d requested a check-in with you.” 

Right, the shrink.

“His name’s on the door. I’ll just…” the doctor points down a corridor. 

“Sure.” Dean finds the office and taps on the door. 

“Dean!” Balthazar was really nice the last time they talked. “Please, have a seat. Have you had coffee?”

“Not enough,” Dean says, planting himself on the sofa as the counselor goes to the pot on a cabinet along the wall. “Just black is cool.”

“Has it been a day?” 

“Yeah,” he accepts a mug with the Omega Centre logo. “I went to the state omega place with Dr. Novak.”

“And?”

Dean shrugs. “It’s weird, but it’s not as bad as I thought.” 

“No, it really isn’t. Omegas love to make it sound like Oz. The prison show, not the...fictional place, you know. Very dramatic.” Balthazar folds himself into an easy chair. “Charlie lived there for three years.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You should ask her about it. She refers to it as Oz. The fictional place. Also, Anal Sex Hogwarts.” 

Dean almost spit-takes his coffee. Almost. “She’s such a nerd.”

“She is,” Balthazar says fondly. “Anyhow, I’m glad you came by. Your alpha says you’re adjusting very well, but that’s one side of the story, isn’t it?” 

Dean licks his lips. “Yeah. I think. I mean, I’m doin’ okay. It’s frustrating sometimes.”

“It can be. You’re in training. It’s expected that most alphas and omegas will pair up, and breaking a mating bond is horrible. Not that beta divorces aren’t, but good training reduces the bond break rate, society yada yada. There are state guidelines for milestones your alpha needs you to hit, making sure you’re aware of your role and submission, but you’re a bit of an edge case. And after your heat...” Balthazar trails off.

Yeah, that’s right. After his heat, he can leave. “An omega went into a surprise heat at the state facility,” Dean says. “Dr. Novak didn’t-- he doesn’t…?”

“Oh, he doesn’t do that, no. Not with patients or omegas he’s entrusted with. Not ever.”

Dean sips his coffee. “Is he religious or something?”

“God, no,” Balthazar laughs. “You could ask him about it.”

“Eh.” He looks away. It doesn’t really matter if Castiel doesn’t want Dean. It’s probably not...personal or anything. He probably has his reasons, and Dean’s...Dean’s just a trainee or whatever. “You don’t tell him what I say here, right?”

“No. Not unless you’re planning to harm yourself or others. Or if you ask me to share something. I realize it can be difficult for sub omegas to communicate with dom alphas.”

Dean nods. No, he’s gonna keep some things to himself.

Balthazar changes the subject. “You were worried about your brother, you’d said, the last time we spoke.”

“Um, yeah.” Dean misses Sam like a phantom limb, but he honestly hasn’t been that worried. Sam was going to be an alpha. “What you said helped.”

“He doesn’t sound like he’ll let your father push him around.”

“Nah, dad leaves Sam alone, mostly. I think he’s resigned himself to the fact that he’s a grind and he’s gonna go to college and do whatever he wants. He’s not a tiger mom or anything and Sam’ll have to do the footwork himself, but he’s motivated. Dad’s maybe proud of his smarts, even though he never says.”

“I expect when your brother presents, they’ll lock horns a bit more, but it sounds like he’s fairly assertive.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. For a kid? He’s pretty stubborn.” He lets out a breath. Sam’s fine. Dean always got the brunt of Dad’s bullshit temper anyway. 

“It has to be relaxing for you, not having to mother-hen him.”

“I didn’t,” Dean protests, and Balthazar raises his brows. “I mean, I had to! Dad’s not around a lot.”

“And your brother is very responsible, thanks in part to you, right?”

Dean concedes that. 

“Well done, then. So...back to you. Have you had to use your safeword often?” 

“Never,” Dean says.

Balthazar blinks. “You can, you know. You won’t be punished for it.”

“Yeah, Dr. Novak told me that. I just-” Dean shrugs. “Don’t need to.”

“Well, don’t be a tough guy. If you need to, do it.”

“I would.” 

“You know he won’t think any less of you if you do.”

“Thinks too much of me,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“Sorry?”

“Nothin’.”

“Well, as was saying earlier, omega subs can have difficulty speaking up and asking for things.” Balthazar sets his mug down on the table and leans forward. “It’s easy to submit, but-”

Dean shakes his head no.

“Come on, it feels natural, doesn’t it? Giving up control and trusting someone else to have us? That’s good. But we’re allowed to ask for things for ourselves. To want things.”

“I don’t need anything. He even buys me everything I could ever want. Don’t even have to ask. Gives me too much, actually.”

“Well, I’m not referring only to material things, Dean.”

Dean looks over at Balthazar and his words sink in. He’s in a t-shirt and jeans, and he doesn’t have a mating mark, but he’s wearing a collar that’s not too different from Dean’s, with a silver chain woven into it. “Wait. Roll back. You’re an omega?”

“Yes? You weren’t aware of that?” 

He’s flummoxed. “Guess I thought you were a beta. ‘Cause most people are.”

“And you thought that a beta would be a _perfect_ in-house counselor for a dedicated omega center.” 

Dean can’t help laughing. “No. Sorry. That was stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t.”

“So you’re uh,” he gestures at his own collar. It’s not uncomfortable.”You’re not mated?” Dean swallows what he was going to say about Balthazar being kind of...old to be an unmated omega. 

Balthazar picks up his coffee and smiles at him over the mug. “I might be, soon. Her name’s Abby.” 

Dean smiles back. “Alpha Abby. Bet she’s nice.”

“Mistress Abbadon can be very nice. And also very strict,” Balthazar confides. “And that’s just the way I like it.” He winks, and Dean grins. Yeah, he knows what that means. “But you’re not here to talk about my personal life, just yours.”

“I don’t have one.”

“You will.”

“I don’t know what I, if I want...I still don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Well, if you decide to continue your journey as an omega, the state of Kansas has generous scholarships available. Granted, they’re still a bit backward and they’re overwhelmingly focused on the helping professions, but the stereotype isn’t really that far off. There’s a reason why so many of us end up as teachers and nurses and psychologists, and it’s not because omegas are mostly female.” He smiles at Dean again. “But of course you can study whatever you like and burden yourself with student loans like most betas. You like cars, right? You could study mechanical engineering.”

“Not sure college is for me.”

“I would beg to differ. Castiel says you’re a very bright young man.” 

Dean blushes. “I guess I could go to the state place and get a work permit, huh? After my heat or whatever.”

There’s a long pause. “Hmm.” Balthazar squints at him. “You...could. You should talk to your alpha.” 

“Yeah maybe.”

“And speaking of,” the counselor checks his watch. “That’s our time, and I’m sure he’ll want to catch up with you.”

Dean stands and straightens out his skirt, and puts his mug back on the cabinet near the coffee pot. “Okay. And, um, thank you.”

“Anytime. I know you have my card. Just call, or let Dr. Novak know if you want to come in and chat.”

“Thanks again.”

Dr. Novak’s leaning against the wall in the hallway, and gives Dean a quick smile as he comes out of the office lobby. “I don’t know about you, Dean, but I’m famished.”

“I’m always famished.”

He forgets the honey, but they get drive-through burgers. “Doc, we just had burgers.”

“They’re my favorite.”

Dean shakes his head. It’s not like he minds. French fries are definitely a vegetable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting; the flu kicked my ass, and unlike Dean, I HATE going to the doctor. Ha. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor gives Dean a new phone when his cranky old burner refuses to charge or turn on; it’s green and has three cameras on the back for some reason. He spends a day photographing random stuff around the house and yard and downloads a music app, makes playlists, and adds the house phone, Dr. Novak, Aaron from the omega school (because why not) and Charlie’s number. He can’t bring himself to regret it, even though he texts her to say hello and she won’t stop texting back and sending him memes. She tells him how to forward numbers from his old phone, but he doesn’t bother. His father knows where he is, right?

He stretches out on his bed later in the day, adds in the only number he knows by heart, and after a few long moments, pushes “call.” 

“Who the hell’s this?” Bobby says, gruff as ever, and Dean grins.

“It’s Dean. Winchester.”

“Where you at, boy? You need help?”

“Nah,” Dean rolls over onto his back. “This’s a social call. You okay?”

“Woke up today, so I guess so. You with your dad?”

“Nope. Staying in Wichita with some...friends. Has uh...Dad called you?”

“Couple weeks ago,” Bobby says. “Lookin’ for some info on a fella wanted up in Maine for wire fraud a while back; some jackass scammin’ widows. Told him not to make a federal case out of it.”

Dean’s obligated to chuckle at the overused bounty hunter joke. “Maine. Huh.” 

“Thought you were all up there. He said you and Sam were doin’ fine.”

“Yeah. Hey. Can you, uh… he’s supposed to come get me pretty soon, but if he calls you first, can you have him put Sammy on the line and give him this number?”

“Will do.” There’s a pause, and Bobby clears his throat. “Rufus just got a contract to salt the roads this winter, needs another driver, if you decide you don’t want to hang around your old man. I know he can be hard on you.”

Dean lets out a breath. “That’s...thanks. I um, I presented, though. I presented omega.” He screws his eyes shut. 

Another pause. “Alright, then. Good for you. You got a job here if your uterus don’t hurt too much to drive a gritter, princess.”

Dean lets out a shocked laugh. “Yeah. No. It doesn’t.”

“Well, good. Gotta go, son. Take care of yourself.”

“I will, Bobby. You too.”

Dr. Novak is off early, and swings by to pick Dean up to run errands after asking him to make some sandwiches.

There’s a park with a huge duck pond not too far from the intersection where they drop off some dry cleaning, and Dr. Novak suggests they take advantage of the slightly cooler weather that afternoon and eat at one of the picnic tables. Walking around the pond after, Dean tells him about the time he and Sam decided to feed the ducks at the reservoir (in some town Dean barely recalls) stale bread when the kid was around five, and how Sam later raided the change in their dad’s glove compartment, sneaked out to a convenience store, bought more bread, and went to the river alone.

“The geese basically terrorized him. I freaked out and went out looking for him and heard these screams. He was holding three empty bread bags over his head and hollering for help, totally surrounded.”

“Geese can be aggressive,” the doctor laughed. “Swans, too.” 

“Yeah, and he was only little. I think he’s probably still afraid of waterfowl. And clowns.”

“I completely understand,” Dr. Novak says in a serious tone. “Clowns are utterly horrifying.”

Dean tells him the carnival clown story, and the doctor tells him his own clown story, from a circus. “She kept rubbing animal balloons on my head, it was awful.” 

Dean’s not really thinking about it too hard when he reaches out and folds his hand into the alpha’s, but he doctor halts suddenly on the path when he does, and fuck, is that a rule? Did he do something wrong? He guesses he forgot he’s an omega and this isn’t like that. They’re not...he didn’t ask, but if he’d been walking around outside on a late summer afternoon with one of the girls at one of the high schools he’d been at, he’d have have just reached out and done it. It felt like...the thing to do, but the second afterward he’d remembered that not only were they not a couple, but it probably wasn’t very submissive, either.

“Um. Sorry,” Dean says, feeling stupid. “I...” and when he tries to take his hand back, the doctor gives it a squeeze and slips their fingers together.

“No, it’s fine.”

He lets go of Dean’s hand when they get to the silver SUV, but when they’re buckled in, holds out his own. Dean forgoes fiddling with the satellite radio in favor of twining his fingers into the alpha’s. It feels really nice. 

The doorbell rings a few nights later and it’s not Dr. Novak, but very close. He’d known his alpha had brothers, but...

“Jimmy Novak,” the man says, holding his hand out for Dean to shake once they’re in the entryway. “And this is my daughter, Claire.” The girl’s a little younger than Dean, wearing a purple omega outfit and carrying a backpack and an instrument case. “Claire, say hello to Dean.” And oh, right, the doctor had mentioned his niece staying over sometime soon because her parents were going out for their anniversary.

“Hey.” Kicking off her Vans, she looks and sounds very, very unimpressed. She’s old enough to babysit herself, in Dean’s opinion, but he remembers something about her mom taking her to an audition the next day or...the details are fuzzy. He’d probably been staring at Dr. Novak’s face when he’d explained all this. A face that’s identical to his brother’s.

“Sure,” Dean says, blinking. “Hi.” The girl disappears down the hallway.

“I need to speak with Castiel,” Jimmy says, still in the doorway, and Dean shakes his head.

“Stuck in surgery. Charlie called and said he’ll be finished up pretty soon. But I’m making dinner. You wanna come in?” Dean is profoundly glad he’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans today.

“No, no...I have to go, but I’ll text him. You know he’s terrible about checking his phone, so please let him know her mom will be meeting her at the airport; Claire has all the flight information. Oh, and she’s had already had her evening paddling.”

“Uh, okay,” Dean says. 

“My wife’s gonna kill me; I’m late,” Jimmy says with a quick smile, and yeah, the twin thing, it’s weird. “Heard nice things about you, Dean.” He opens the door and steps out. “Gotta run. Bye, Claire!” he calls out, and shrugs when there’s no answer. “See you later.”

“Bye,” Dean manages before the door shuts. He finds Claire in the living room taking out her instrument. 

“Clarinet, huh?” he asks. 

“It’s an oboe,” she replies, looking disdainful. Like he’s supposed to know the difference. 

“Too bad, because Claire...inet.”

“I’ve never heard that before. Really.” 

Dean’s probably only a couple of years older than her, but now he feels like a fuckin’ grandpa. “Want a Coke?” 

“Yeah,” Claire says, looking momentarily sorry about being kind of a little shit. “Thanks. And a glass of water? Please? I have to soak my reeds.”

“Sure,” Dean says. 

Claire does her homework in the living room and mostly ignores Dean while he goes back to getting dinner ready and sets the table until the front door opens again. 

“Sorry I’m late. Claire bear! It’s tonight?” 

“Uncle Cassie!”

Dean smirks, and knows the doctor sees it. 

“When’s the audition?” Dr. Novak asks at dinner. Winchester Surprise and homemade bread goes over pretty well, and Dean had covered his ass on the healthy vegetables end by making a salad and homemade dressing. He does not blush when the alpha raves about the dressing. Okay, he does.

“One. And then mom’s taking me shopping.”

“What school is this?” Dean asks.

“It’s in Denver,” Claire says around a bite of bread. “Performing arts charter school for omegas. It’s public, but it’s really hard to get into.”

Dean’s eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna go to school in Denver? Like, away to school?”

“I imagine that Jimmy and Amelia will be looking for a new house, if all goes well,” Dr. Novak says with a smile.

“They’d move to another state so,” Dean gestures with his fork, chewing, “so their kid can go to a particular _high school_?” He tries to imagine his father doing that for Dean, and no, not even for Sam. It’s lucky Sam’s so smart, but what would it be like for him if he could go to a really good school and not have to move all the time? 

Of course, he also can’t imagine flying to Denver for one day. That has to cost a lot, and it’s only an eight-hour drive, but Claire thinks Dean’s off his rocker for being surprised about that, or that they’d move.

“My dad’s company has stations in Denver where he can work,” Claire shrugs. “And my mom’s sister lives there. She says it’s a cool place. I wanna learn how to snowboard and stuff.”

“It is,” Dr. Novak says. “I did my residency there.”

Dean doesn’t know shit about classical oboe, but Claire plays a few pieces after they eat and he has to admit she’s pretty good at it. 

She’s taking the guest room -- Dean’s room -- which is okay because it’s not actually his room anyway. He’s just a guest, and Pamela came today, so the linens are fresh and all. He gets “his” robe and stuff and overhears the doctor and his niece. “Go get undressed for bed and your paddling and I’ll be right in.”

“I had it already!” 

“Sure you did, Claire.” 

Dean chimes in.”She did. Her dad said to tell you when he dropped her off,” and Claire gives him a grateful look. 

Dr. Novak eyes Dean. “Are you sure this isn’t just omega sub solidarity?” 

“Nope.”

“Nope,” Claire echoes. 

“Fine. Sleep well, kiddo.”

“G’night.”

“Uncle Cassie,” Dean snorts. He’s tucked into the other side of his alpha’s bed after being steered away from the sofa and being stripped before his temperature check.. 

The doctor groans. “I hate it. Always have, but it stuck when I was little. I know Castiel’s a mouthful, but…”

“It’s...there’s nothing wrong with your name. How did your brother end up with Jimmy as a name and you got Castiel?”

“His given name is Jerahmiel. It’s an Enochian archangel.” 

Dean whistles, low. “Okay, I get it.”

“Truly, Gabriel had it easy. Though Luc, not so much. Lucifer.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Lemme guess, they were born first?”

“Yes.”

“I’m named after my grandma on my mom’s side, Deanna, and Sam after my granddad.” 

“I like your name,” Dr. Novak says into a yawn. “Dean.”

Dean smiles, turning his face into the pillow. He likes the way he says Dean’s name. “I’d name a boy Sam, probably. What would you pick for a boy, Cassie Jr?” Dean thinks belatedly about that Michael guy, and his baby, and regrets bringing up the topic, but his alpha doesn’t seem bothered.

The doctor laughs. “Definitely not. Perhaps an angelic name, though, to keep up the family tradition. I have a cousin named Uriel.”

“Nah. Sounds too much like urinal.”

“Dean!” 

He loves talking in bed like this. It’s like he and Sam used to do, staying up and whispering in the dark, but also completely different. “You, I mean your twin brother, seems kinda young to have a kid Claire’s age. She’s 16, right?”

“Yes, and he was young. He and Amelia were high school sweethearts and mated at 17.” He laughs again, softly. “Our mother -- dad was out of the picture by then -- was not at all amused. ‘Think of your future, Jerahmiel!’ He turned out fine, obviously. He’s a gifted salesman and has done well for himself, and Amelia is a lovely mate. He just went off script.”

“She get over it?”

“Mostly,” Dr. Novak says. “But only because he’s the only one of us who’s given her a grandchild. Luc is married to his job and Gabriel is married to...well, he’s committed to having as many partners as possible. Anna hasn’t found her one-and-only yet, she says.” 

“So you’re the good son, huh?” Dean edges closer and puts his head on the doctor’s shoulder.

“Well, I’m not a _brain_ surgeon, so it’s debatable.” Dean can hear him swallow.

“How did the surgery go, that kept you late?” 

“Oh, it was...okay. Just an unexpected caesarian section. It was all by the book once we scrubbed in, but there had been a delay with the omega’s labor. Mother and baby are fine.” 

“S’good. Hope she gave the baby a decent name.” 

“Hmm, something a little old fashioned. Ellen, after her mother, I believe. It’s not terribly old fashioned, but it’s not as trendy as the ones we often see.” 

“If I had a girl, I’d name her after my mom, too. Yep. Unless Sammy beats me to it.” Dean nods against the doctor’s shoulder. “What about you?”

“I had another sister, too. She died in an accident as a teenager. I’d like to honor her.”

“I like that.” Dean curls an arm around his. “This okay?” he asks quietly.

“That you like to cuddle?” Dr. Novak lifts his arm and Dean nestles closer happily, soft t-shirt and the rise and fall of a solid, warm chest under his cheek. He drifts comfortably, relaxing into sleep. “Of course it’s okay, Dean..”

Dean wakes alone to the smell of coffee in the air, and dons the grey robe. Claire is rushing around frantic, biting a nail, looking for a piece of sheet music that Dean finds on the kitchen counter. Dr. Novak, also already showered and dressed, calmly nibbles on a muffin. “Your reeds are still in the living room.”

“Urgh,” Claire groans, heading over to pack them up. “Are we leaving now?” 

“First things first. Get your paddle.”

“I’m already dressed!” Claire’s wearing black pants and boots and a white blouse. 

“You can stay that way. Mostly.” She eyes Dean, and the doctor nods at her. “Go on. In the bedroom.”

“We’re gonna be late!” Claire complains, stomping off. 

“We will not.”

It’s not like Dean wants to listen, but when he fetches his toothbrush from the bathroom next door to the guest room, he can’t not. It’s Dr. Novak counting, and a harsh _whack_ with every one.“ Ten. Alright, all done. Good girl. Do you have all of your things packed?”

“Yeah,” he hears Claire say. She’s not crying or anything. She pushes past him in the hall and Dean watches her tweak her eye makeup in the big mirror. She seems calm, not pissed off. “Come on, Uncle Cassie!”

Dr. Novak heads to the living room and puts on his jacket, then grabs his trench coat from the rack. “I’ll see you tonight after work.”

“‘kay.”

Dean offers a fist to bump, and Claire obliges. “Break a leg, or whatever they say to musicians. Oboe players. Break a lip.” 

Claire snorts. “Later, Dean.”

Dean’s reading in the den when the doorbell rings, and he groans when he opens the door.

“Wow. Thanks for the enthusiastic reception,” Charlie says as she steps in and toes off her Converse sneakers. 

“Yeah, well, you keep sticking needles in me.”

“Not this time, pal. This is purely a social visit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m here to see if you have any health-related questions. And I could have just called, but I’d rather hang out here than at the clinic. Don’t tell on me.”

“I won’t. Omega’s honor,” Dean says solemnly, holding up some fingers in what he thinks is the Boy Scout salute, but Charlie twists them so he’s throwing the Vulcan hand sign.

“That’s more like it. So how’s tricks?”

Dean doesn’t really have any burning questions except about Trek, so he pours Charlie some iced tea and they discuss the relative merits of various captains until he thinks of something he does want to know about.

“So hey,” Dean says. “What do you know about Michael?”

Charlie worries her lip between her teeth. “Um. He’s...I’m not sure if I should say.”

“Look, I know he’s Dr. Novak’s...ex. Right? They were engaged, or married, and they were gonna have a baby, but not mated? I just don’t want to stick my foot in my mouth.”

She sighs. “Okay. Well. You didn’t hear this from me.”

“Omega’s honor.”

“Pfff. Speaking of that, Michael didn’t have any.”

“He didn’t? What happened?”

Charlie leans forward. “They were engaged, yeah. It was before Castiel got here. All I really know is that Michael was pregnant and it wasn’t Castiel’s but he didn’t care? I don’t know all the details, but the long and short of it was that Michael dumped him right before the wedding, and it messed him up pretty good.”

“Fuck. That sucks.”

“As far as I know, he hasn’t dated an omega since then, but I don’t know if that’s why.” Charlie shrugs. “He went out with this beta nurse at the Omega Centre, Meg, for a while. She was…” she pauses. “You know, I feel kinda weird gossiping like this.”

“Sorry.” Dean drains his tea. “I just...I saw a picture of Dr. Novak with this Michael dude, and he was pregnant, and I didn’t know if he, you know, lost a kid or whatever.”

Charlie’s eyes soften. “No. I get it. It’s nice of you to not want to bring up something hurtful.”

“Or I’m just nosy.”

“Or that.” Charlie gets up. “I really should hit my next stop. I have two more home clients today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, it's a new year! Hope everyone had a great NYE and enjoyed any and all December things you may celebrate. :)
> 
> Just a short-ish chapter with a bit of backstory.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whee, a spanking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with my irregular posting schedule; as I've said, this story is "done," but as I sit down to edit and refine things, I get the urge to add scenes, and the scenes get longer when I do. Full confession: as a reader, I don't usually enjoy timestamps after the end of a story that much and would rather read them as part of the tale, so I'm adding these in as I post.

There’s a framed photo tucked among the others on the cabinet in the dining room that Dean had somehow missed, with Dr. Novak and his brother Jimmy, and, he guesses, their dad. They’re in white shorts and shirts with matching warmup jackets, holding tennis rackets, and Jimmy looks completely defeated -- and not because he lost. 

“He hated tennis lessons, but I convinced him to take them with me,” the alpha says with a laugh. “I loved playing, and our father enjoyed it when he was younger as well. I tell Jimmy now that we could have ended up like the Williams sisters, but that’s a joke; I wasn’t really that good either. I won a couple of regional competitions, placed in more, but that’s it.”

“You don’t play tennis anymore.” There’s a question in Dean’s voice, spurred on by the dusty racquets in the guest room closet.

“I really stopped with medical school. Too busy. But I miss it.” 

They watch a preseason football special on ESPN, discussing Mahomes and the Chiefs, hoping they have a real shot at the playoffs, and Dean points out the guy in the insurance commercials looks like the dom from the state omega school, the one that came in to knot the girl in heat. “Did you find him attractive?” the alpha asks, and Dean shakes his head.

“Uh, no? Not really my um...type.”

“Hmm.”

Dean’s getting ready for his heat check in the doctor’s bed later, since it’s not Pamela’s day to come, and neither of them feel like changing the guest room sheets, not that he minds that Claire slept in “his” bed anyway, after most of a lifetime of ratty rental places and dive motels and sharing a room, and half the time a mattress on the floor, with his little brother. 

“It doesn’t bother you a bit? Another omega having stayed here?”

“Nope.” He still can’t scent anybody, since he’s broken, apparently. He sheds his clothes, efficiently, and takes a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. The alpha smirks.

“What?” Dean huffs.

“You enjoy this.”

“Nah.” but he’s blushing, because it’s obvious. Yeah, he likes ditching his clothes at the end of the day, and maybe Charlie was right about feeling sexy, especially when Dr. Novak is still dressed and he’s not, even if he’s in a t-shirt and cotton sleep pants for bed and not his work clothes. Not everything about being a sub for a scorchingly hot dude is tough, for fuck’s sake. “Whatever.”

“We’re trying something, then. I’m going to require you to be naked at home, now that I know how much you like it.”

Dean sputters. “You said I could wear what I want-” 

“Shhh,” the doctor says, running a calming hand over his shoulder blade, “How about we try it out, but you can still choose. You won’t be punished if you decide to wear clothing, but I’d like you to try. I prefer it, and I think you will too, if you give it a chance without judgment.”

“But-”

“There are many alpha and omega households where this is a standard expectation, Dean. Thus, it’s a standard step in your training.”

“ _Thus_ ,” Dean’s voice drops, mockingly, the doctor only smiles at him, still running fingertips over his back. He shivers and looks away. “I don’t...Pamela comes. Shit, what if somebody else comes over?” It’s not like they have a lot of guests. Just the housekeeper and Charlie. Charlie’s already seen everything, and Pamela barely acknowledges Dean in the first place except to say hi before putting her headphones on and going in hard on the house like a woman on a mission, singing along to cranked-up Missy Elliott and Warren G. (Honestly, Pamela isn’t bad at it and it made him download Regulate.)

“It’ll be up to you, with an exception. Benny Lafitte is coming over for dinner in a few days. He’s a fellow trainer, so...” 

Dean remembers Benny, the alpha nurse from the clinic. He’s seen everything Dean’s got, too. 

“Okay.” Dean pushes out another heavy breath. “Don’t see much point in it during the day when you’re not even here to see me in the buff.” 

“But I’ll know. And you don’t always spend the day, or our time in the evening, in a submissive mindset until we get ready for bed. It can be a bit jarring to go from watching TV to the evening routine. Being nude will remind you of your role.” The doctor gives his ass a pat, and Dean goes into present on the bed.

“And I don’t get that either,” Dean says, turning his head as his hips are adjusted, biting his lip when the alpha spreads his cheeks and gently pushes two fingers into his hole. 

“What’s that?”

“The paddling thing. I mean, why do it?”

“Reinforces submission,” Dr. Novak says, setting the thermometer thing down. “And it reinforces dominance for the alpha dominant.”

“How?” The doctor sits next to Dean and urges him over his lap. Sometimes he does Dean’s check like that, but he has his chastity cage off after his shower and he hesitates, keeping his knees bent, before a hand on his back presses him down flush against firm, muscled thighs and comes to rest on Dean’s own. Fuck, he’s gonna get hard when that thing goes in him, too. Embarrassing.

“It’s a reminder of the power dynamic. It should help the submissive let go of any stress and responsibilities they feel. For the dominant, it feels good to provide that calm to their submissive and to regularly exercise control.” 

“But it hurts when somebody hits you,” Dean says quietly, tracing the quilting on the duvet. 

“Maintenance spankings aren’t really that painful, and they aren’t punishment. They’re the same every time, so everyone knows what to expect.”

“Oh.”

“Most submissives respond well to spankings, love them, even.” Dean twists and gives Dr. Novak a doubtful look, but he just raises his eyebrows in reply.

“You want to paddle me, like Claire.”

“No.” The doctor draws his fingertips over the backs of Dean’s thighs, raising goosebumps. “I’d spank you. Ten spanks is the standard amount with a bare hand.”

Dean bites his lip. “Hard?”

“Not too hard. I’m a surgeon. I can’t damage my hands.”

He can’t help a laugh at that. “Okay, do it.”

“Sorry?”

“You can spank me.”

“I know I _can_ ,” Dr. Novak hesitates. “I also know you were very upset at the prospect before you came to stay here.” Dean puts his head down. “...but things do change. Perhaps you’ve grown to trust me, a bit?”

Dean nods into his folded arms. 

“Well then, we’ll try it. Usually it’s not an issue with something mild like a maintenance spanking, but you do remember your safeword, right?”

“Yep. Impala.” 

“Then I’ll begin. I’d like you to stay still and quiet until it’s over.”

Dean nods again, and suddenly feels nervous, wanting to take it back, as the alpha’s hand strokes his bare ass. Nah, he’ll just tough it out. There’s probably a checklist, and the doctor can mark this off too; naked, spanked, whatever. He can handle a little-

_Smack!_ Dean bites back a gasp as the sound of the first sharp slap rings out in the master bedroom, and a second later, the hand presses against his cheek. A pause, then another, on the other side. It doesn’t hurt that much; it stings a little, and the gentle touch after soothes the skin. Dean holds his breath, but the alpha’s taking his time, and he has to exhale. At the count of ten, he shifts to get up, but the hand holds him back down, his hard cocklet pressing between the alpha’s thighs. 

“You said ten,” Dean manages. 

“Ten on each side, baby,” the doctor says softly, “the paddle gets both at once, but not my hand.” Dean groans into his arms. 

_Smack!_ Pause. _Smack!_ Pause. _Smack!_ Dean’s butt feels warm and sensitized now. _Smack!_ Dean flinches a little. _Smack!_ Pause. _Smack!_ Dean shifts his legs slightly, and can feel a trickle of slick from his hole. He tightens his muscles.

“Relax, Dean,” Dr. Novak says, and waits until he stops clenching his butt to administer the last four slaps. Dean realizes he’s breathing kind of hard, and his eyes are tickling, but it really didn’t hurt that much; he doesn’t need to...he won’t cry, for pete’s sake. Hands soothe his flesh, and Dean slumps, letting out another held breath. It’s over. 

“All finished. Good boy, Dean. You were perfect.”

The doctor shifts slightly, urging Dean to rise up on his knees, and slips a hand under him. “Mmm. You’re slick, and your little penis is still hard. You liked your submissive spanking, didn’t you?” 

Dean, embarrassed, doesn’t answer. His eyes are still squeezed shut, and his face, still pressed to his forearms, feels as warm as his ass, which hardly hurts anymore. The doctor taps his thigh. “Up now. Get on your back for your temperature.”

“You can do it like this,” Dean tries.

“I can, but I’d prefer it that way this time.” With a sigh, Dean gets up and flops onto the bed, and when he turns onto his back he can’t hold back a wince. Okay, his ass does smart a little.

“Owwww,” Dean complains dramatically, and Dr. Novak rolls his eyes at him. 

“Hold your knees up then; get your pretty pink bottom off the bed.” Dean tucks his arms under his knees and bites his lip as the alpha slides the device into his hole. “Good.” 

He’s still turned on, and the doctor waits until after Dean brushes his teeth and they spend a boring 15 minutes watching something on Nat Geo about DNA sequencing before he’s soft enough to have his chastity put back on. He wants to complain about not getting to come, but the alpha seems so proud of him for being good tonight that he doesn’t want to break it.

Dean falls asleep with his warm ass pressed against the doctor’s warm thighs though. It feels good.

He grouses in the morning when he’s put over Dr. Novak’s knee half-awake, before he’s even had a chance to get coffee. His dick can’t get hard in the cage, but he feels both keyed-up and kind of good after the spanking, which goes a little faster this morning if not harder. When he gets to his feet, the doctor turns him and remarks on how pink he is. 

“Remember to use sunscreen if you spend time outside, Dean,” he says over breakfast. “A spanking over a sunburn is no fun.”

“I haven’t had a sunburn for weeks,” Dean points out, and the doctor smiles at him as he gathers his keys and heads for the door. 

Dean can’t help checking out his ass in the mirror on the back of the closet door. It looks fine, just pink like some of the subs at the state school. 

He could probably get himself off on his front, but he secretly relishes the feel of his tender behind on the cool sheets as he uses the vibrator to bring himself off quickly before he hops in the shower.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the massive delay in posting these chapters. I'd go into detail, but I don't want to bore you, so I'll blame 2020 because this year sucks in general. (Part of it, though, is lots of changes/revisions/perfectionism on this end, which I think will make the story more satisfying in the end, so I hope you will forgive the pause.)
> 
> The lovely comments and encouragement you've left are very much appreciated!

His alpha facetimes him on his new phone and he’s sure it’s a check to make sure Dean’s not dressed, because he looks really happy to see that he isn’t, and Dean blushes furiously when he’s told: “Now touch your nipples for the camera. No, don’t stop yet. That’s it, show me. That’s wonderful, Dean.” 

He tells Dean it’s not for his registry entry, and he likes the idea that Dr. Novak just wanted his picture for...some reason. He knows doms ask their subs for photos all the time. It’s probably just so he gets used to it, but it’s not like betas don’t do the same shit. The registry pictures the alpha takes make him blush bright, though: naked on the white sheet of the bed with the ceiling light on, on his back holding his knees apart, face-down in present with his back arched, ass up, chest pressed to the bed and flat, some with his fingers spreading his cheeks to display his hole, every position with and without a glass plug and first a thin then a thicker dildo (and before and after they’ve been inside him). There are photos of his cock too, soft and hard, with a ruler alongside, with a sound sticking out of it (he’d loved that), and in his clear acrylic chastity cage, and his ass before and lightly pinked after a maintenance spanking. 

The fact that omegas have pics and videos on their official registries, along with their measurements and kinks, would have freaked him out more, but the doctor controls who can look at it as his alpha dom, and other dominant alphas aside from Dean’s family, trainers at the clinic, and the state board have to ask for his permission. If he stayed omega until he was over 21 and didn’t have a mate, he’d be in control of access to the files, at least until he was mated. He’d asked Aaron about it when they were texting back and forth, and he’d said not to worry, that most alphas wouldn’t want other doms seeing their mate’s ass anyway. Dean had shrugged at that. It’s not like he’s gonna be an omega long enough for anybody to want to court him, or any of that bullshit. Aaron had responded by calling him a _total idiot_ , but hey, that’s fine.

There’s a delivery dropped on the doorstep from FedEx in the afternoon, and he waits until he hears the truck disappear down the otherwise silent street and puts on the grey robe to get the box, then dutifully lays it back on the bed in the freshly-made up guest room. 

He shivers, even though the house isn’t even cold. It’s still weird being naked all day like this, except for the cage and a plug, when he’s not even going into the pool or anything. 

But it’s not weird _bad_. He catches his reflection in the huge floor mirror in the front hallway and stops to study himself. He looks pretty good -- tan (well, and he has more freckles from the sun now, too) and fit, his cock in its cage, and his balls look small and neat since the cage wraps around the base. He covers them with his hand, trying to imagine what he’d look like without them, and bites his lip after turning to see the faint pink of his ass again. 

Being naked, even around the house, isn’t something he could have never done with his dad and brother there. He feels guilty over not spending more time thinking about them, and about the thought that he doesn’t mind some of the training; he didn’t ask for this, after all. 

Pamela shows up in the morning, nodding at him after a quick, appreciative once-over like it’s normal to have someone hanging around nude, (and maybe it is; he has no idea who her other clients are -- maybe some of them are omegas?) and commences dusting down the bookshelves. Dean gets over his embarrassment long enough to ask her what she’s singing along with, and wonders what kind of music Dr. Novak listened to when he was a teenager. Or college or med school. He and Pam are the same age, he knows, but he seems so serious in comparison. He knows a little about the alpha’s life and family now, it’s kinda hard to imagine him young and carefree. Or engaged. 

**Private Training Notes - Update** (A rather lengthy update this week.) Dean Winchester is taking daily contraceptives in preparation for first heat. No side effects noted. The subject has progressed remarkably well in terms of acceptance and adaptation to his role. He has responded favorably to submissive maintenance spankings with evidence of arousal via channel wetness, pre-ejaculate, and genital erection if not in chastity when spanked.  


Despite being accustomed exclusively to penile orgasm due to late presentation, Omega has adapted to genital chastity (image attached) He has achieved climax and subspace during dominant-applied urethral sounding sessions and though he greatly enjoys being granted occasional permission to stimulate his own cocklet manually, ejaculatory volume is appropriately low. However, I am pleased to note that Dean is no longer solely dependent on his penis for pleasure and can easily orgasm anally with digital or vibratory stimulation of the prostate and omega glands. He regularly achieves light subspace during his enemas, though the sessions often begin with a brief period of embarrassment and fidgeting. We will move ahead with the remaining body control milestones this week.  


Omega is being prepared for lactation during heats and has completed his hormone injection protocol. Dean’s pectorals are enhanced by a slight expansion of tissue, the areolas have darkened to a rosy, deep pink and the nipples are sensitive to touch and almost always fully erect. Though he sometimes expresses shyness about these minor changes to his physique, he has responded favorably to soft correction if he attempts to hide his body and reassurance that his appearance remains masculine and normal for his orientation. It is expected that he would adapt readily and learn to enjoy erotic nursing outside of heats if desired by his alpha dominant. Of course, an omega submissive does not have to _enjoy_ being kept in milk, and a sadistic dominant may prefer resistance or distress in this area, but I believe this omega’s nurturing instinct would ensure that he experiences only minor, pleasurable embarrassment surrounding the act during estrus. This reaction will satisfy most dominant alphas. Distress may be increased if Dean is compelled to nurse outside of heats or in view of others at his alpha’s discretion, but my impression is that any negative reaction would be mitigated via the subspace response, strong arousal via stimulation, and this sub’s natural, if unacknowledged, affinity for slight sexual humiliation. For now, this is easily achieved through standard modesty denial.  
Castiel pauses, remembering Dean during the call earlier, eyes closed, hands on his chest, almost reluctant, little hitches of breath, pink with a mix of blush and flush. He’s _gorgeous_. He lets out a breath, takes a sip of coffee and types on.  


Dean accepts Omega clothing and has been introduced to compulsory domestic nudity. He is comfortable swimming outdoors in a private pool while nude as required. Remaining Kansas state training milestones include public nudity in a dedicated Alpha and Omega space such as a pool, club, or gym, at home with an observer other than Alpha of Record, and in another domestic dwelling in order to prepare Omega for demands of a traditional Alpha), and experiencing full chastity (locked anal plug in tandem with genital chastity device) for the same reason. It is unfortunate that Dean’s first heat is approaching so soon; normally these elements can be introduced more gradually, and ideally, a sub should experience full chastity for several weeks (with a weekly dominant-administered release through manual or mechanical milking and/or occasional orgasm via penetration at his or her discretion) as part of training. 

Castiel taps to save the entry, then remembers to upload several photos showing different angles of Dean in both the submissive present position and on his back with his knees spread wide; in his favorite one, Dean’s without his chastity cage and his small cocklet is fully erect, his eyes closed and lips parted. After another glance, he saves again, and closes the file.

***

 _Six years ago_

Being with Michael, finally, had been...fine, if not how he’d imagined it. The omega’s scent, as he’d noticed at the bar but was more apparent when he had the lithe body under his own, had changed since back in high school, the tart-sharp grapefruit gaining a tinge of too-sweet molasses. Somewhat unusual, but it happened sometimes with maturity. Michael had resisted Castiel’s attempts to slow things down. It wasn’t the first time he’d had sex, or knotted an omega, but it was their first time. And probably the only time he’d ever get to, with- 

Michael groaned. “I seriously think I’m still in heat, Cassie. Or maybe you just brought it back on. Come _on_. Get on with it. Harder. Fuck!” 

He’s not really in heat, or Castiel would be able to tell, and he would have simply driven Michael home and tucked him in with a bottle of water and a sandwich, because he wouldn’t have taken advantage. 

It wasn’t what he’d fantasized about long ago, but it was decent and fairly athletic sex, and he couldn’t deny the satisfaction of finally being wanted by his former crush, if only physical, and if for one night. He doesn’t kid himself, however. He was a port in a heat storm, that’s all. 

But then, a week later, the day before he’s supposed to leave town and get back to work after the holidays:

“So. You knocked me up.”

Michael doesn’t sound angry, or upset, just matter-of-fact. He’s even smiling a little.

Castiel is knocked speechless for a long moment. “You said-”

“It was safe. Right. I guess my birth control failed. It, yanno, happens. My parents will probably freak the fuck _out_. “ 

Castiel barely remembers meeting Michael’s parents years ago in high school, barring his own mother’s headshaking disdain for them: “They let that spoiled boy do whatever he likes. No supervision at all!” and “They’ve gone bankrupt twice, drive those luxury cars, and yet leave their omega son in a public school.” At the time he’d thought Naomi was being snobbish and judgmental, but he somehow doubts Michael’s parents would “freak out” over this, considering they apparently hadn’t after he’d been put on probation for possession of cocaine in college, they were still paying his rent in his shared place with Marv, and he was driving a beemer they’d leased. Naomi, on the other hand, would be beyond disappointed if she ever found out. At any rate, Castiel will do the responsible thing.

“Do you know what you want to...do?” He asks delicately, expecting Michael to tell him what day he has in mind for the termination. He’ll accompany him and pay, of course. It’s not even a question. He and Jimmy have pledged between themselves not to use family money if they don’t have to, but he has savings, and he’ll support Michael as best he can. An unplanned pregnancy can be a devastating, life-changing, emotionally stressful event.

He’s not kidding himself, here. Michael had wanted a knot that night and he’d...suited. He knew it hadn’t meant anything to the omega, not like it meant something more to him, or would have meant back when he’d spent his adolescence secretly mooning over the other boy. Not that Michael had known about that, but he’d always been aware the alpha had harbored feelings that he didn’t share. Maybe he always would. He was used to them being unrequited, and he’d mostly gotten over his teenage infatuation with time.

Castiel was philosophical about it. It happened sometimes, with maturity. 

“I’m keeping it,” Michael says, and Castiel blinks. “I mean, you’re almost finished with your Denver stuff, right? You were going to move back to Pontiac anyway. You said that was the plan.”

“I---” Castiel feels his chest seize. “What? You want-”

“I’m not having a kid out of wedlock, though. I mean, I don’t want to be _pushy_ , but we should get married and mated. Don’t you want that? You’ve always seemed like the settling-down type to me.” He bites his lip and looks at the alpha through his lashes. “You telling me you’re not? You just wanted me that one time?”

“But you. You don’t...” Castiel swallows hard as Michael sinks to his knees -- looking uncharacteristically submissive, and slides questing hands up the sides of his thighs, lashes fluttering. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Aw, Cassie,” Michael says seductively. “Don’t be stupid. I’ve _always_ liked you.”

Naomi, as expected, is not at all pleased, but she concedes that marriage is “the proper course,” given the circumstances. Hael and Anna are excited about being in the wedding party, since Michael doesn’t have any sisters (or any female friends besides a somewhat unfriendly British beta, Toni, who apparently comes from “very old money” and who’s dating Michael’s handsome-but-dim alpha buddy Bartholomew) and they’re getting married before the baby comes, in the summer when Castiel’s residency ends and he can take a month off for a honeymoon. “I’m stoked about Tahiti. I’ll be kinda big, but that’s okay,” Michael says, and Castiel doesn’t mind; whatever he wants), but Jimmy is livid.

“Wow. Very bad idea. Terrible idea.”

“Bad idea doing the right thing?” Castiel asks. 

“Yeah, in this case. Because it’s Michael.”

“You know I...cared about him-” 

“Yeah. _You_ cared, and mostly because he’s hot.” Castiel shakes his head as Jimmy snorts. “It was more than he ever deserved. And that was a long time ago. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t see how that’s any kind of problem. You knocked Amelia up and got married. And you were teenagers! And you’re happy together, aren’t you?”

“That’s irrelevant to this situation.” Jimmy says, shaking his head.

“Seriously,” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I need. I. I can’t do this without...you having my back.”

“Can’t do this?” Jimmy leans forward in his chair in Naomi’s stuffy floral study; he’s on the edge of it anyway, because there are two overstuffed needlepoint cushions behind him. “Does that mean you have doubts?”

“No. I don’t,” Castiel says, after a moment. This is his teenage dream come true. He’d always wanted Michael to want him back, after all. 

Right?

His fiance comes to Denver a few times and Castiel goes back to Pontiac for some long weekends in the interim, but his residency hours are long and grueling and they don’t spend as much time together as he might have hoped. He doesn’t actually know Michael that well, after all. It’s not like they’d really dated before this. Michael submits to genital chastity with an eyeroll, but Castiel can’t safely lock his hole if he’s not there during the week. The omega seems relieved about that.

Michael is an omega dominant, which is not his _beau ideal_ for a life partner, something he hadn’t really considered when he was 15. But then, last month he hadn’t assumed one night with Michael would turn into a life partnership, either. Things are tense between them; their sex drives and preferences (and kinks) don’t precisely match, but he’s hoping things will improve when they’re living in the same house as Castiel tries to launch a practice and they have a newborn. 

Or, well, no, perhaps not then. But eventually. 

Michael can be hot in bed and cold out of it, just as he’d been before Castiel ever thought he’d have a chance. 

“It’s hormones, I think. Not personal, Cassie,” he says when he brushes off a casual kiss or flinches at a hug: “You’re so...clingy. Not that it’s a bad thing, but I need a shower.” The rest of the time he’s eager enough, and almost too loud. 

“I don’t want to mate until our wedding night,” Castiel tells him after a lunch of chicken strips for his fiance and a cheeseburger for him at Old Log Cabin. 

Michael despises the place: “God, it’s so kitschy and tacky, Cassie,” but Castiel had missed the homey diner atmosphere when he’d been away for his residency. 

“Why, though?” 

“I just thought it would be nice. Special.” 

“I guess.” Michael’s sullen mood improves when they pick up their engagement photo proofs that afternoon, select the nicest, and drop it off at the Daily Leader office. “I would have been happy to run off to Vegas. We still could. Then we could be mated by the weekend.” He kisses Castiel’s cheek.

“Your parents wouldn’t appreciate that, I’m sure,” Castiel says. “Their only child?” Feeling a little abashed over the short courtship and the reason for it, Castiel’s paying for the small, elegant affair at a hotel downtown, anyway.

“Well, I’ve always wanted a big wedding...but your brother eloped, right?”

“Amelia’s parents didn’t approve of them marrying so young.” He sighs. “Naomi didn’t either.” 

“Just your luck the alpha Novak boys have such effective sperm,” Michael says with a laugh as Castiel’s phone rings. He glances at it. 

“Ah, there she is now.”

“Naomi?” Michael rolls his eyes, and Castiel frowns. Yes, his mother can be frosty, and she never exactly liked Michael, but he has no way of knowing that; she’s been nothing but civil to him in his presence. And she really likes being a grandmother. 

“Mother, hi.” He can feel his face drain of color as she speaks. “We have to go. It’s Hael.”

It’s a long night. The Novaks gather at the hospital and later at the family home. Hael hadn’t suffered, they were told; she was killed instantly in the collision. The other driver had been under the influence of drugs and alcohol and had a suspended license already. He’d run a light. His oldest sister, younger than he and Jimmy and two years older than Anna, hadn’t had a chance. 

Michael sits with the family as they grieve, until Naomi suggests he go to Castiel’s old room to sleep. “It won’t do, having you upset. You’re expecting.” 

Hael’s obituary runs on the same day, on the same page, as the engagement announcement.

“Is this Castiel?” the voice on the house phone asks. It sounds familiar. “It’s Marv.”

“Oh. Um. Hello.” Michael had moved back into his parents’ house when Castiel had returned to Colorado after the holidays, and his fiance had said Marv was mad about that, though Michael’s name had never officially been on the lease. He’d never gotten along very well with the guy himself, but apparently he and Michael had had some sort of falling out that had prompted him to move in the first place. “Did you need to speak with Mich-”

“No,” Marv hisses. “I know he’s not with you.”

“Uh...”

“I mean to say, I know because I just saw him go into the Dunkin’ on Madison Street a few minutes ago with that British chick he hangs around with. Can you talk? Privately?”

“...I suppose?” It’s the first time he’d been alone in the house since the funeral. Gabe and Lucifer had just gone back to their respective cities, Anna’s at school, and Jimmy and Amelia are having a day out with Claire and Naomi before leaving Pontiac. Toni had taken Michael shopping for bridal something-or-other, and Castiel is set to meet them and Bartholomew for dinner, a double date of sorts.

Castiel switches his phone to his other ear and sinks into a padded chair at his mother’s formal dining table. “What’s up? Have you found another roommate? I’m sure Michael’s very sorry to have left you in the lurch.”

A bitter laugh. “I’m sure he’s very not sorry,” Marv said. “About that...”

He has a difficult time understanding what Marv’s telling him, at first, and then he has a difficult time believing it, but he listens.

“See, he told Dick -- you remember Dick Roman?” Castiel does. “This was a few years ago. He told Dick he was pregnant and it was his. It was just one time, yadda yadda. Anyway, they get engaged, two months in, Michael miscarries.”

Michael hadn’t told him that. In fact, Michael had said he’d never conceived before. It was, of course, _possible_ that he’d wanted to keep a prior relationship to himself, but why? Dick Roman lived in San Francisco now; he’d successfully launched a startup based around real estate or something. Castiel wouldn’t have been jealous, for pete’s sake. And he could have soothed any worries Michael has about this pregnancy. Perhaps that was why the omega seemed so...off lately. He might be worried about-

“But he was never actually pregnant, you know?”

“What?”

“I said-”

“How do you know that?” Castiel demands. 

“He spilled when he was rat-assed drunk. Honest, he probably doesn’t even remember he told me, but he’d thought he was pretty clever; Dick makes the big bucks now, and Mike thought he’d caught a free ride. His parents live rich, but they’re leveraged to the eyeballs and he’s inheriting a fuckton of jack shit. God, you know that Ken doll alpha Bartholomew, the dumb one? He’s dating that English chick for her money and Michael’s a catty bitch about that, too. I think it was his idea. Birds of a feather, am I right? At any rate, sorry to digress; Dick decides he can’t put up with Michael’s shit, and he only proposed out of obligation or whatever, so they break up, no harm no foul.” Marv sniffs. “Look, I saw the paper, and today when I saw Mike, I thought... I’m really sorry about your sister, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Castiel pulls a few more dry petals from the arrangement on the table. The last of Hael’s condolence bouquets.

“So yeah, I saw the paper, saw you and Michael in there, and-” 

“I can assure you, Marv, that my fiance is definitely pregnant.”

“Yeah, but…” Marv hesitates. “I’m pretty sure it isn’t yours.”

Castiel wants very badly to slam the phone down, but he doesn’t. He blows out a breath. “And why is that?”

“When did you guys...you know?”

“What?”

“When did you guys bone?”

Ugh. _Marv_. “Excuse me?”

“Castiel, there were pregnancy tests in the trash, back when he lived with me. Michael’s a slob, he left one on the counter and it was positive.”

“So?”

“So, this was before Christmas.”

Castiel’s vision blurs. Calla lilies and chrysanthemums. Yellow and white. Green leaves. “But-”

“But you weren’t even here before then, right? Michael told me you were back in Pontiac for the holidays and he asked me to get lost so you guys could hook up, what was that, a couple of days before New Year’s?”

Castiel makes some sort of noise of affirmation. Or maybe it’s shock. 

“Look, don’t take my word for it; run a DNA test or something. I don’t know if you can do that before you sign over half your shit -- aren’t you a doctor? I know your family has money too, so you’ll probably have a prenup or whatever anyway, though if you’re mated it’s too late, I guess? I don’t know how all of that alpha/omega stuff works. I’m just saying...I’m just saying it took me a while to realize what a snake Michael can be. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, and you know I was pissed he left me in the lurch with the rent, but this isn’t about that, man. You and your brother always seemed like good guys, man. I just...I wanted you to know.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says, faintly. 

The bouquet on the table sits stripped to the stems.

Breaching Michael’s privacy is something that he’d never countenance doing, normally. But his laptop is right there, and it’s not locked. His email is just receipts for everything that he buys online with Castiel’s cards at Neiman-Marcus, but his history...it’s all inheritance cases and divorce law sites. 

Still numb, Castiel meets Bartholomew and his girlfriend and Michael for dinner. 

Of course he can’t run a DNA test on a baby that hasn’t been born yet, but he is indeed a doctor. A doctor who specializes in omega reproductive care. And an alpha. With an enhanced sense of smell, even for an alpha.

He knows that an omega takes on the scent of his or her alpha after mating, but even without the mating process, the sinking in of teeth, the developed bond, a pregnant omega usually begins to smell faintly of the alpha involved. There are rare exceptions, and he’d assumed Michael is one of those. But his scent had changed before they’d had sex, not after. 

He could still marry his teenage crush, and be a good father to his child. Michael had perhaps gotten himself into a jam, if Castiel looks at the situation objectively, or charitably. 

But perhaps...Michael is just what Jimmy had always said he was: beautiful, but only on the outside.

He eats dinner and drinks a glass of wine without really tasting either, listens with half an ear as Michael and Toni banter over reception venue ideas and the blandly handsome but Bartholomew, whom Castiel didn’t know very well back in school, talks about his new job, some junior position at a bank branch. Bart was lucky to get it; he did poorly in college, but his uncle Buddy is “a loan guy.” 

Castiel doesn’t say much at all, and no one at the table really notices. Bartholomew excuses himself and, on the way back from the bathroom, leans in close to Castiel to ask that he pick up the tab. “I’m a little short. I’ll get it next time, friend.” 

Bartholomew _reeks_ of molasses. 

He and Michael, do not, in fact, have a prenuptual agreement. But it doesn’t matter, because he and Michael are no longer having a wedding.

Maybe he should have waited until they were someplace private, but he simply can’t sit there another minute without saying something, and watching a blisteringly angry Toni Bevell slap Bartholomew Boyle in Bernardi’s is worth it. “I’d slap you too, if you weren’t pregnant with my _ex_ -boyfriend’s child!” she shouts at Michael before storming out. 

Michael doesn’t try to defend himself. He looks sour, and vaguely abashed. Bartholomew just looks guilty and baffled. 

The server approaches tentatively with the bill, and Castiel rises, passing her enough to cover everything and the tip. “I’m sorry about the scene,” he says, before turning to Michael.

“Never speak to me or my family ever again.”

When he packs to leave Pontiac, he considers that maybe he should have asked for the ring back, but perhaps Michael can sell it. He and Bartholomew will probably need things for their baby, if they decide to go through with being parents. Then again, he sends an envelope with no return address in the mail with a list of reputable adoption agencies, a list he keeps for late-term omegas and betas in distress he runs into at the hospital.

It’s funny, he thinks to himself. He’d wanted Michael, or the idea of him, for years, but even after putting a ring on his finger, he’d never really thought of Michael as his. 

Letting go is even easier than he’d imagined, too.

***

_Present day_

When Castiel comes home, Dean isn’t in the living room like usual, or the kitchen, or out by the pool. With a rising sense of unease, he calls out, and Dean answers faintly from his bedroom. “In here.”

“Dean?” He pauses at the threshold. Dean’s curled up on the bed, fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. One of his own, from college. “Do you feel unwell?” 

Dean shakes his head. “Nah.”

Castiel perches on the side of the bed and lays a palm on the omega’s forehead anyway. 

“Said I’m fine.”

“You did.” He runs his hands down the front of his trousers. “I brought home dinner, like I said I would. Something I think you’ll like. You said you hadn’t tried Indian food?”

“Sure,” Dean mumbles. It’s troublesome, how uncharacteristically down the boy seems after his earlier cheer. This is more than an afternoon nap. He can scent the omega’s distress.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It must be something. You were fine at lunch. Happy. But I see you’ve dressed, too, and you’d agreed to keep your clothes off today.”

Dean shifts and blinks up at him. “You gonna punish me? Whip my dick, or something?” his voice is strained.

Castiel leans back on his hands. “Of course not. What brought this on?”

Dean takes a shaky breath. “I went through a couple of the Omega sub training books.”

“And you have questions. About punishments in particular?”

Dean’s silent, and Castiel waits for a minute before speaking. “Whippings can be used for submissive discipline, yes. Sometimes subs are made to do something as simple as sit in the corner for a while or are denied orgasm for a period of time for something more serious, but often, punishment is physical and usually centers on the bottom or genitals. I’ve punished you before, but you’ve behaved since. Are you worried that I’ll hurt you?”

“No. You. I mean...I...don’t know.”

“Well, first off, as I said, you’ve been impressively well-behaved, which pleases me very much. You don’t brat, and as far as today goes, you’re not in trouble for getting dressed and we discussed that before; 24/7 nudity is something we’re working on. It wasn’t really a rule.”

Dean nods. “I just, I need to know. What you’d do…”

“You want to know the specific consequences for disobeying your dominant?”

Dean meets his eyes. “Yeah. I read that stuff, and some of the rest of that book, and it kinda, it freaked me out.”

Castiel smiles. “That’s why I wanted you to read these things. I knew you’d have questions.”

“I guess I do.”

He rubs Dean’s shoulder and gets up, extending his hand. “Come on.” 

Dean’s pulled into the living room and handed the book on the sofa while Castiel disappears into his office and returns with a small black bag -- like the kind Dean’s dad keeps his shaving stuff and toothbrush in, only fancy leather -- that he unzips and sets on his lap. “So, you asked about punishments.” At Dean’s nod, he starts pulling items out of the bag. “You’ve experienced these.” He holds up the testicle weight ring and digs out the clamps he’d used on Dean’s nipples. 

Dean bites his lip. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so you know what they’re like. Not pleasant at all.” He takes out two jars and sets them aside. “You have enemas, but nice ones that I know you enjoy. A punishment enema may involve cooler water or the dominant may have the submissive retain a larger amount of water to the point of discomfort, particularly if an inflatable tube is used to stretch the rectum. Or mildly soapy water, which burns a bit. That is not a punishment I would recommend as a doctor, because enemas are meant to keep you clean and shouldn’t be feared, but some dominants are a bit old-fashioned and it’s not really harmful if not done often. As for these,” Castiel lays two thick, flat strips of black plastic on Dean’s thigh, one about as wide as a ruler but shorter, and the other no wider than a pencil, “either is typically used to whip the nipples or the genitals, and the narrow one is used on the hole while the submissive holds his or her cheeks apart. This stings, but a minor correction, one or two snaps, won’t hurt for very long. Five or more lashes leave the area sensitive for a few hours, and after an anal whipping, penetration will be painful, but the skin is never broken.”

Dean blinks. “Penetration?”

“A alpha dominant with sadistic tendencies, which is not not uncommon, will often, but not always, conclude a discipline session with rough anal sex to completion.” He watches Dean swallow. “And will sometimes use either a mentholated or capsaicin cream afterward on the submissive’s hole or to prolong the sensation on any areas that have been whipped or clamped.”

“Oh. right. I saw a sub omega get punished like that at the state center,” Dean tells him. “But I think she kinda, she liked it.”

“Punishment at omega schools is generally harsh; they have dozens of submissives to keep in line. As I said, you’re not very masochistic, but I’ll bet that sub is, and someday when she’s in the right kind of relationship, or knows how to ask, she can have her dominant hurt her without having to act out.”

“Like what, she just asks to get her ass beat to fuck?”

“Maybe. Both.” Dean chokes out a laugh at that. “A good dominant will pay attention to what a sub needs. And if pain helps her get into subspace, they can incorporate it into their daily interaction. They could schedule other, more intense spankings besides the maintenance ones, for example.” He bumps Dean’s shoulder with his own. “For a sub who enjoys pain, her punishments should be different so they’re not just reward, because constantly acting out is a lot of work. Maybe time in the corner or lines.”

“What the hell is lines?”

“Writing ‘I will not do whatever it is I did wrong’ 500 times, that sort of thing.”

Dean makes a face and Castiel can’t hold back a laugh. “ _Every_ submissive hates lines.”

“So you’d use these on me?” Dean asks, running a finger along one of the plastic whip things. 

“Unless you’d rather do lines for six hours.” That’s met with an eye roll. “There are a few other punishments that dominants use, but I’ve promised I won’t use a belt or paddle on your bottom.” He takes Dean’s hand and turns it over, placing it on his own thigh and picking up the thicker black strip. “I’m going to show you what this feels like. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, meeting his eyes. 

Castiel draws back an end of the tool and snaps it, hard, on the back of his hand, and Dean gasps at the impact, the sharp but temporary ache. He makes a fist after. “Yeah, that little thing sucks more than I thought it would.” Castiel soothes the skin with a thumb and uncoils Dean’s fingers, holding his hand in both of his own.

“I don’t like inflicting pain, but rules are rules. If I had _required_ you to be naked and found you the way you’re dressed now when I got home from work without a good reason -- I certainly wouldn’t want you frying bacon or using a wood sander in the garage in the buff, after all -- you would indeed be punished with this. Something like...three lashes on each nipple, three on the penis. Is that clear enough?”

Dean’s mouth drops open. “That...that...”

“...would hurt. And the next time, five. The next after that, I would whip your anus as well. And for repeated defiance, you might also earn a bit of capsaicin creme around your hole and the tip of your sore cocklet to help you remember that omega submissives must remain naked when they’re told so. Most of the time, dominants make it easy for submissives to obey; requiring a chastity cage so they’re not tempted to touch themselves, for example. Even a sexually sadistic dominant won’t require a sub to be naked if the furnace breaks in the winter and the house is cold. Physical punishments hurt a bit temporarily, but they shouldn’t be excessive or cause any permanent damage. Alphas are supposed to care deeply for their omegas’ comfort and happiness. That is part of _our_ training, the classes that alphas attend in school. You heard Dr. Cain; he’s traditional and believes an omega sub should never be allowed to masturbate. In that view, orgasms are supposed to be granted by the dominant, and only when the alpha is seeking his or her own pleasure in the omega’s body. I interpret that in a different way based on the individual submissive and the training level; in your case, I permit this. But even strict dominants will make sure that a sub is content and satisfied.”

He leans back and continues. “You’ve said you don’t mind being ‘surprised’ through the course of your training, and you’ve responded well so far, but let’s talk quickly about what we have left to do in the limited time we have left together. Soon, being nude at home will be a rule, and I’ll have to sign off on an experience involving compulsory nudity both in another domestic situation and among strangers at an alpha/omega establishment.”

“But-”

“But I will be right there at all times.” Castiel squeezes the omega’s hand. “Dean. Please listen. This is required under state guidelines. You will also be diaper trained.”

“No,” Dean says sullenly. 

“ _Yes_ , but that one’s easy. With a different trainer…” he trails off. “You will also experience a period of anal chastity so you cannot masturbate when I’m not present, which we haven’t done so far because you’ve had to learn to come from there in the first place, and as you already know, you will be knotted during your first heat and will produce milk. These are all non-negotiable, and defiance or refusal will mean discipline. It will hurt.”

“Orrrrrrr...I could do lines,” Dean suggests, and Castiel laughs. 

“Yes! But I won’t have to punish you at all if you do what you’re told. And then, because your circumstances are unusual, it will be over and you can make some choices for yourself. Do you understand?”

He lifts Dean’s chin and gets a whispered “yeah,” in reply. 

“Now, what would you think if you broke the rules I’ve made for you, and I did nothing in response? Just ignored the infractions and walked away?”

It was a weird thought. Not entirely good, either. And that was also weird. Dean was generally good at getting away with things, but that was mostly stuff that his father never found out about, like getting drunk in the park when his dad was out on a job anyway. The spankings he gets twice a day don’t hurt for long, and they’re not because he did something wrong. He’s definitely been yelled at less here than when he’s on the road, and he’s been praised about 100 times more. He frowns, thinking.

“I know you’re apprehensive about painful punishments, but I’ll never punish you without a reason. You’ve only been disciplined one time, so I don’t see any reason for you to worry about something that’s within your control. It’s nice that you naturally want to obey your dominant, isn’t it? That you’re always such a good boy for me?”

Looking down, Dean nods.

“Except for the swearing, but I let that go.” Dean manages a shrug and Castiel catches his other hand, too, tracing over his knuckles gently. 

“I don’t enjoy punishing submissives, Dean. I enjoy taking care of...you.” The doctor lets out a breath. “Now, as much as I enjoy seeing your beautiful body in its natural state, you have my permission to keep these clothes on until it’s time for your bedtime spanking.” In the meantime, I’ll heat up our dinner while you pick out a movie and wash your hands.” He waits for Dean’s nod again, gives him a smile, and because there are troubled little creases there, leans in and presses his lips quickly to the omega’s forehead. “Good. Now go.”

Dean cues up a move on Netflix, but on the way down the hall he pauses and detours into his bedroom, pulling off his jeans and the soft t-shirt that he’d picked on a whim and folding them, placing them on the end of the bed. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He doesn’t really hate being naked. Sure, it makes him feel kinda vulnerable or whatever, but it makes the alpha happy, so it’s not a big deal, really. In the bathroom he washes up and runs a comb through his hair. 

The food Dr. Novak brought home is crazy good; it even smells amazing. Lamb curry and paneer and naan, it’s a kind of bread thing. Dean’s never had Indian food before, but one dinner and now it’s apparently his new favorite. They eat silently, and Dean had wanted to stay mad about the idea that his alpha could just hurt him if he wants to, even though Dean won’t make him do it, and he understands that he doesn’t want to, but it’s not fair anyway, but despite himself, he does get it, and he can’t hold on to the feeling when the doctor give him a pleased and amused look as he demolishes seconds. Novak is a good alpha, a good guy. He even let him jerk off! He got really lucky. He’d read in the books that omegas got to sign off on things that are allowed on contracts when they agreed to be with an alpha as an adult, and it would be okay. Not that he’d have to worry about that, but he only has to do this stuff (even the stuff that sounds kind of terrible) until his heat anyway. He decides not to worry about it anymore.

“I can cook, but I really like _this_ takeout,” Dean says with his mouth full, and the doctor laughs. 

“You’re still a guest, Dean. You don’t have to cook.” 

“I like doing it.” 

He spends some time looking up dishes and recipes on the sofa afterward, half-watching the Sherlock Holmes movie on the huge television, and his eyes start to droop. He’s barely aware of what’s going on with the movie, some fortune-teller-lookin’ chick running around, and then he smells it.

“Damn, you’ve been holdin’ out on me,” Dean says. “Were you really mad because I got dressed?”

“Hmm?” Dr. Novak’s arm is along the back of the sofa. Dean likes the warm feeling of his wrist behind his neck. He turns his head and settles into it, and is rewarded by a gentle scratch at his nape. “Of course not. Though I do appreciate that you've rectified that without being asked.” His gaze travels the expanse of Dean's nude body on the sofa and Dean can't hold back a shiver. "Sorry, did you think I was angry?"

“Dessert, doc.”

The doctor shakes his head, looking confused.

“Cherry pie with the buttery kind of crust. C’mon, I can smell it. Did you buy it ‘cause of what I said?” The alpha doesn’t bring home pastries and desserts, and it’s also why they go out for ice cream instead of buying containers of it. Too tempting to overdo it, he says. When it comes to Dean, he’s probably not wrong, but dammit, he knows he smells cherry goddamn pie. 

“Oh,” Dr. Novak says, and he drops his eyes and looks guilty. 

“Yeah, I knew it.” Dean stands up. He’s been told enough times to make himself at home and help himself that he doesn’t feel weird about fetching the thing. That was obviously being hidden. It’s a travesty.

“There’s no...dessert, Dean. That’s...hmm. It’s, I believe. You can. You’re able to scent alphas now, apparently.” He coughs and looks away, and _what_? “I should have noticed, the way you reacted to dinner.”

“Wait, you mean _everything_ smells better now?”

“You’re an omega.” Dr Novak gives a shrug. “So...yes. If they smell good in the first place. Some things definitely don’t. You really enjoyed dinner, but you liked spicy food anyway, right?” 

“Sure, but-”

“That’s all it is. Heightened senses. Centered particularly on hormonal perception, but the olfactory ability affects other things, as well.”

At Dean’s doubtful look, he inclines his head and pulls his collar back. “You may scent me if you’re not sure.”

Tentative, Dean sits back down and does, and then he wants to laugh at Dr. Novak because fuck everything, he smells like fuckin’ cherry pie and not a storm or the sea or whatever, and for some reason he’d imagined that; maybe it’s the blue eyes, but then he’s sitting down again and leaning in and can’t stop breathing it in. It’s the safe, comfortable, wonderful way the house itself smells, but he’d barely gotten a bare hint of it before, like that little half-melted gardenia candle his dad keeps in a ziploc in his go-bag, and doesn’t want to discuss, ever, but it reminds him of his mother. And now it’s delectably intense, particularly right at the source. 

“Can you smell yourself? How do you not weigh 400 pounds?” Dean murmurs, and he’d deny that he’s snuggling in, practically on the doctor’s lap, but he fucking _loves_ the way he smells. 

Dr. Novak’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Not...not normally. And you get used to your own scent. Though...at certain times, it’s. Stronger, so.” He coughs. “Yes.” 

Dean inhales, and discovers he can smell himself, too. Fainter than the doctor, but the scents sort of blend together. That’s what it’s like when people are mated, their scents blend. “Oh fuck, I can.” 

Arms come around him then and it’s nice, but no, they’re holding Dean away, and why? He wants to stay close. “I’m going to bed now, Dean. I have an early start tomorrow. Um. Surgery. So I’ll just…” The doctor’s getting up and he’s brushing off his khakis and heading to the side of the house where his room is. “So I’ll see you later. Likely when I get home from work. You won’t be up that early. Good night.” 

“Oh...okay,” Dean replies to his quickly retreating back. It’s only 9:17, the clock on the mantel says. He swallows and shifts, and oh, he’s wet. His ass is sodden with slick. “Fuck,” he whispers, and keeping his legs together and his hole clenched, carefully gets up and makes sure he hasn’t ruined the sofa. It looks okay, so he rushes to his room. Figures that he’d stopped wearing the pads since omegas don’t wear underwear, and he doesn’t bother with a plug at home. He hears the piping in the other part of the house that makes noise when the doctor’s showering, which he doesn’t normally do at night, and then he’s mortified. What he if got slick on the alpha’s lap? Dean sits on the toilet and pushes his face into his hands. 

After a moment, he dabs gingerly at himself with a piece of tissue, and in the bedroom, he gets out one of the dildos that doesn’t vibrate, one that looks like a cock that he’d had inside him for some of the photos. Just to try something different. 

He gets off in less than two minutes, probably. It’s a huge relief. Panting on the bed, he collapses on his stomach but leaves the thick dildo pushed all the way inside his sopping hole; it feels so good there. So full. Deeper than a plug goes. He runs a hand beneath his hips and down, slips his fingers over the plastic cage around his dick, where there’s only a little wetness there from when he first got turned on. He might as well not have balls now. He sighs. He’s gonna have his ass put off limits pretty soon too. But maybe his alpha will use the rod thing on him again, the sound. Maybe he could even ask for that, was that okay? 

He’s sated, but he didn’t get his nightly spanking. Is it fucked up that he feels like he missed out?

**Author's Note:**

> This perversion is complete and will be updated regularly. :) 
> 
> XO
> 
> Wandalust


End file.
